Catch Me When I Fall
by supernaturaldh
Summary: If Dean takes care of Sammy, then who takes care of Dean? A hunt for a black dog goes bad from the very start. Angst, Sick Sam,Hurt Dean! Sequel to 'Slightly Stupid', but you don't have to read it first. STUCK WITH ME & BEST STORY R11 SENSUE AWARDS
1. Chapter 1

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural, or the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester. I do own all the other characters in this story.

This is a sequel story to "Slightly Stupid". It would help if you read it first, but it isn't necessary. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and asked for the sequel.

**Prologue**

_The bags were slung into the back of the truck with a thump as Tom Baldwin loaded up the last of his hunting gear and threw his duffle to the truck bed. He was excited, the first time in a long while. His heart was thudding in anticipation of this trip. He was ready for a change, some excitement, something to pump up his blood, get him moving. The suggestion by Sam and Dean, and the subsequent discussion with Bobby Singer, had only served to make him want this more. He would be a hunter, and he would help those who needed it. He turned back to the sleek black Impala and the two men standing next to it. It had been six weeks since he met the young Winchesters, six of the best weeks of is life. He had helped them on their quest to rid the world of evil, he and given them a place to rest, recover, and along the while, he had grown to care about them in a way he thought he could not feel anymore. Sam and Dean had helped to take up a big empty place that he had felt for the last two years, a void that he knew would engulf him if something did not change. He shuffled his large size 13 boots back toward the Impala and the 'boys'. _

"_You boys be careful, you hear me." Tom's strong voice rolled off his lips. "Dean, you take care of your brother. Sam, you watch out for Dean; he can sure get himself in some trouble shooting pool." _

"_Oh come on man, I got that under control." Dean huffed._

"_Sure you do." Sam rolled his eyes, extending his hand toward Tom, who grabbed it sternly, then pulled the youngest Winchester into a hug, fingers coming up to the back of his long locks and mussing them. Sam laughed as he wrapped his own arms tightly around the big man. "Miss you already." Sam muffled into Tom's shoulder._

"_I'll miss you boy." Tom said as he pulled himself away, blinking his eyes quickly._

_Dean stood rocking unconsciously on the balls of his feet, nervously bouncing the car keys in his fingers. He knew what was coming. Jesus, enough with the chick flick moments, please. _

_Tom quickly grabbed Dean stiffly into a hug. This is not something Dean likes at all. _

_He snickered at Dean as their eyes met briefly, then to his amazement, the oldest Winchester did something out of his normal realm of personality; he hugged Tom back tightly, holding him like there was no tomorrow. Tom shuffled around; his hand rubbing against Dean's jacketed back. Then, as quickly as the motion happened, it ended. Dean pulled away quickly; hand dropping back to fiddle with the car keys, eyes not looking up again. _

"_You call us; let us know how it's going with Bobby." Sam smiled one last time as he opened the passenger door, sliding into his usual position. Dean opened the passenger door and grabbed his seat behind the steering wheel._

"_Will do, you guys be careful. Call me." Tom laid his hand on the top of the Impala as Dean turned over the ignition. "Nice Car", his hand thumped loudly on the hood just above Dean's head. Dean veered his eyes over and up to Tom, shiny hazel orbs scrunched up in smile lines. "Nice car indeed, if you ever decide you need to pawn it off, I know an old guy who would love it." Tom chuckled and tapped the hood again._

"_Yea, I got it…" Dean blinked his eyes several times, grinning at Tom. He pulled his eyes away, riving up the engine, "See you around". _

**Chapter 1**

**Cold Nebraska Night**

The cold Nebraska wind cut through Sam Winchester's jacket with a vengeance. He pulled the collar up tighter around his neck with his hands, precariously balancing his shotgun on his thigh. His breathe came out in little puffs, dancing lightly around his face as his eyes met his brothers. Dean eased his finger to his lips, making a light shushing noise that Sam recognized as a warning. He quickly stopped fumbling with his jacket and hastily grabbed up the gun with his icy fingers. He peered across the moonlight glazed cemetery at the nameless headstones. His eyes fell on the misty gray figure that floated in the darkness.

"That must be where she's buried." Dean nodded his head toward the figure as he whispered in white whiffs of air to his brother. They had been scouring the old cemetery in Broken Bow, Nebraska the last two November evenings; having no luck locating the unmarked burial site of seven year old Laura Williams. The vengeful child spirit had killed three innocents in the last two months.

Sam's teeth chattered as he blinked, the cold night air causing his eyes to water excessively. "Ye…ea...ea." He tried to still his shivering body as the gun in his fingers shook uncontrollably.

They watched as the face of the young girl leered across the snow covered ground and rested hollow red eyes on them both. Dean quickly pulled the trigger on his gun, the salt blast causing the figure to waver, and then screech into the night air.

"Hurry up, Sammy. We got to dig up her bones and burn 'err before she comes back."

Sam stood on his freezing legs and made hast grabbing up the shovel from the hard ground; he ran numbly behind his older brother. _It is freaking freezing out here._

In eight large steps he joined Dean next to the grave marker. Dean leaned his gun against the headstone and dropped the duffle bag with a hard thud to the ground.

"I'll dig, Sam. You keep watch." He snatched the shovel from Sam's stiff fingers, noticing his little brother seemed rigid, eyelashes ice-covered, gun clutched against his chest. _Damn, Sammy is freezing, got to get him a warmer coat._

Dean put all his weight behind the shovel as he threw dirt haphazardly over his shoulder into the shadows. Sam held his gun at the ready, eyes piercing through the chilly air, watching, listening for any movement or sound. It was still and quiet. The only thing he could see was his own wobbly finger's holding tightly to the gun; the only thing he could hear was his chest pulling in the icy cold air.

"H...hhhhurry up, D...De...Dean." Sam quivered out to his brother.

"Screw you Sam, I'm digging as fast as I can. Keep watching and shut up." Dean's voice was not quivering at all; in fact Sam could see the sweat beading up on his brother's forehead. _Maybe, he should be digging, he'd be warmer._

Dean slammed the shovel into the decay wood, banging against the top of the old casket. _If the little bitch was showing, it would be anytime now. _Just as the thought ran through his mind, he saw the misty gray matter forming just above his head.

"Drop, Dean." Sam yelled, finger pulling the trigger, gun firing off with a loud bang into the night air.

Dean felt the apparition dancing above him only a moment before he heard his brother yelling for him to drop. No questions asked, he fell with a thud to the top of the casket. He heard the bullet ring out through the crisp, quiet air as the ghost screeched, fizzling into the atmosphere. Dean's eyes stared blankly at the pile of bones in the casket, just in front of his face. _Gees, I am so burning your little ass._

"Got…got it." Sammy's voice shook as he urged his brother to finish the task at hand.

Dean shuffled out of the grave, grabbing the gasoline from the duffle bag; he squirted down the bones and the casket. He saw the spark from the match as it sizzled in his fingers and he threw it into the grave. The spirit hissed and sputtered into the night air, dissipating into nothing. Dean watched the flames grow talker as it licked the snow covered ground with ease. He cocked his head, a grin rolling to his lips as he watched Sammy shuffle closer to the flames, his lanky body attempting to gather warmth from the fire.

"You're acting like this is a campfire Sammy." Dean chuckled out as Sam gave him a glaring 'screw you' look. They stood a while, watching as the flames died down and the moon fell behind the clouds.

"Com' on Sam." Dean grabbed up their gear and made hast back to the Impala; his brother's long legs lumbering past him. "In a hurry there dude?" Dean grinned at how fast his little brother could move, if the urge struck him.

"I'm freezing my ass off." Sam quipped.

Dean laughed as he keyed the trunk and stowed the gear inside. Slamming the trunk closed, he slid in the driver's side, eyes glancing over at his brother. He rived up the engine, fingers flicking on the heat at the same time. He noticed Sam's intense shivering next to him, arms across his middle, body all curled in on him. Dean reached into the back seat and grabbed the blanket, fingers dropping it over his brother in one swift motion. Sam smiled over at Dean, numb fingers grasping at the blanket and pulling it up over his chest as the Impala drove onto the empty highway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 2**

**Chilled to the Bone**

Sam shivered as the hot water ran in little rivers down his cold body. He closed his eyes, pulling his frozen fingers through his wet hair, trying hard to focus on the heat. He just could not seem to shake the icy cold that had gripped his lanky frame; latching to him and soaking deep into his bones. The ride back from the salt and burn had been a quiet one, Dean fidgeting with the heat vents, angling them toward Sam; obviously, he had noticed Sam was freezing to death. Sam grinned at the thought, as he leaned his face up at the sputtering spray. The warm water pellets felt good falling against his skin. While Dean had been a nice guy, giving him dives on the first shower; he would not be happy if Sam left him no warm water. He wrenched his hand down to turn off the shower and stepped gingerly to the cool tile; his fingers clutching the towel from the rack.

"SAMMMM." Dean smacked his hand against the bathroom door with a thud. "Dude, hurry up."

Sam wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door, steam wafting up into Dean's face.

"Humph, I'm sure you left me some hot water?" Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and plopped back to one of the beds.

Sam grabbed some clothes from his duffle with his trembling hand and mumbled at Dean. "Sorry."

"Whatever… Are you hungry?"

"How can you eat at 1:30 a.m.?" Sam pulled on his boxers, sweat pants, and tee shirt as he glanced wide eyed at Dean.

"I can eat anytime Sammy, anytime." He grinned at his brother. "I saw a Krystal down the road." Dean rubbed his hand lightly across his stomach, the thought of burgers only serving to peak his hunger.

"I am not eating a greasy burger at 2:00 in the morning." Sam cringed at the thought, sliding over to the other bed and pulling down the blankets.

"There's a Taco Hell." Dean smirked as he stood and rummaged his keys from his pocket. _Sam hates Taco Bell._

"Ewe…I am so not hungry, just tired." Sam fell into bed, pulling he covers up to his chin, eyes closing shut.

"Whatever dude. I'm making a grub run; I'll be back in a bit."

"MmmHmm." Sam muttered as the lull of sleep pulled him under; he vaguely heard the motel room door close, Dean's heavy footfalls disappearing into the night.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dean pulled the Impala back into the motel parking lot some twenty minutes later, Taco Bell bag crumpled in the front seat. He took a big slurp of his mellow yellow and hustled out of the car, a large belch escaping from his lips. _Ah, I feel better; now to get some sleep. _

He opened the door to their room, the glow from the parking lot shining across his sleeping brother, a cold draft blowing in behind him. Sam was bundled up in a mound of blankets, his face disappearing into the pillows and sheets. Dean stepped over to look at his brother, peering through the cloud of covers, tucking them gently under his brother's chin.

"Dean…that you? Sam mumbled, eyes barely fluttering.

"Go back to sleep, Sammy." Dean's voice was a mere whisper; as he shuffled out of his cloths.

"Cold in here." Sam tone was timid as he scrunched deeper into the blankets.

Dean stepped over to the window unit, adjusted the heat quickly and jumped under the covers.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam startled awake, the urge to clear his throat overcoming his body.

"UmUm." He choked out a little noise, not wanting to wake his sleeping brother.

He blinked his gritty eyes as he felt the stuffiness in his sinus, just behind his eyes. _Oh_ _Crap, all I need is a cold_. He threw back the blankets and the chill over the room assaulted his body, he shivered; and quickly pulled the blankets back up, flopping back down to the mattress. _He_ _would just stay right here in the warmth of the bed._

He let his heavy lids fall closed, breathing lightly through his parted lips; his nose seemingly clogged shut.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam felt the hand on his leg, shaking him. "Gees Sam, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean's voice was piercing through the silence, ringing in Sam's ears; as he once again blinked open his grainy eyelids. Dean's face right up in his personal space.

"Wha… Personal space dude." Sam's voice sounded scratchy, hoarse as he pulled his hand up and pushed his brother firmly away.

"You got a cold dude? You sound a little nasally there." Dean stood up, eyes glaring down at his brother.

"I'm fine. What time is it?" Sam spoke slowly, clearly this time, making sure he did not sound squeaky.

"Its 11:00 a.m., I'm starving to death. I showered already. You better not take one; I used all the hot water, you know, returning the favor from last night." Dean's eyes crinkled up in little lines as he grinned at his brother.

"Jesus Dean, take a breath." Sam stood up, grabbing his clothes from his duffle and heading for the bathroom. His head spiked into a headache as he listened to his brother who followed him toward the door. _Good God Dean, shut up. _Sam slammed the door in Dean's face; his brother yammering on and on about some restaurant that serves breakfast all day long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 3**

**Out of the Cold**

Sam's looked down at his plate, the runny eggs causing him to feel just a little queasy. The smell of grease and stale coffee made its way through his stuffy nose. He grimaced as he swallowed, his throat felt scratchy. He realized he probably needed to get some kind of cold medication; head this off before his brother got wind of it. He gazed across the greasy Formica tabletop at Dean, who was happily stuffing in the 'Old Timer's Breakfast Feast' with glee; bacon hanging out at the corner of his lips, mouth full of eggs. Sam picked up the soggy toast and took a small bite; he reached for the steaming coffee cup of black sludge, using it to wash the dryness down his irritated throat.

"Are you eating that bacon?" Dean eyed the crispy morsels on Sam's plate; Sam's hand pushing the plate toward his brother's grasping fingers.

"Go for it." _How could his brother eat this crap? Nothing tasted good to him._

Dean grabbed the bacon as he watched his brother picking at the toast. Sam cleared his throat several times between the burnt toast and the coffee; Dean eyeballing him quizzically.

"You 'Kay?" Dean garbled over the last bite of his breakfast; robustly drinking down his cup of lukewarm coffee.

"I'm fine." Sam rasped out as clearly as he could, stuffy nose causing him to sound a little nasally.

The ringing of Dean's cell phone drew him away from his brother as he flipped it open to glance at the caller I.D.; his eyebrow's shooting up.

"Bobby." He grinned at Sam. "Hey Bobby, how you doing?"

Dean was engrossed in is conversation with Bobby and Sam saw this as an opportunity to dart next door to the grocery store, pick up some Tylenol Cold Medication, pop a couple, his brother being none the wiser.

"Dean." Sam stood up beside the booth, eyes cast down at his brother.

"Yeah, so where is this hunt?" Dean leaned back in the booth, hand gripping the phone as the prospect of a new hunt made him smile, voice almost giggly.

"Dean." Sam shuffled on his feet, hand checking his pocket to make sure he had some cash.

"Missouri huh? A black dog…awesome dude."

"Dean." Sam's voice squeaked out in a croaky tone.

"Hang on Bobby, for god sakes, what Sam?" Dean's eyebrows shot up in a questioning arch just above his eyes.

"I'm getting something to drink at the store next door."

"Whatever." Dean turned back toward the cell phone and his conversation, dismissing Sam to hear more about the black dog in Missouri.

Sam hastily shuffled out of the restaurant, hurried steps taking him to the little market next door. He glanced back over his shoulder, through the window of 'Mabel's Diner'; he really wanted to get his drugs without his brother's inquiring eyes watching him. He sighed in a congested breathe; Dean still sat, eyes wide in excitement, cell phone at his ear.

Sam grabbed up the cold medication, stepped to the counter and paid in a hasty pace. As he exited the doorway, he dry swallowed two pills and stuffed the package in his coat pocket. _Just in the nick of time too, here comes Dean_.

"I thought you wanted a drink for the road?" Dean queried as Sam's hands were empty.

"Uh…changed my mind." Sam shrugged and opened the passenger door. "What did Bobby have for us?"

Dean punched the gas peddle as he giddily told Sam about the black dog that was killing innocents in the woods outside of Hanging Hills, Missouri.

"Bobby said they were ghostly black dogs, the size of large retrievers, roaming the fields outside of Hanging Hills, killed three people so far."

"Great, looks like we got another hunt." Sam shimmed down further in the bench seat. "Anything is better than this freak'n freezer in Nebraska."

"I won't argue with you there." Dean smiled as he turned on the heat and headed toward the highway.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been four long months since the Winchester's had seen Tom Baldwin. They were talking on the phone quite regularly, for a while; then work and distance got in the way. According to their mutual friend, Bobby; Tom had been a top notch student, learning the in's and out's of hunting the supernatural without a hitch. He had gone on several hunts with Bobby and then branched out on his own about five weeks back. Although, they did not see Tom, the Winchester's knew they could count on him, no questions asked. Without a doubt, he was right at the top of their 'who we can trust' list; right up there next to Bobby Singer.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rain began to fall just outside of Topeka, Kansas; coming down in sheets, causing the windows of the Impala to fog up. The air was stuffy. _Or is that my head?_ Sam could feel his throat getting tighter; his voice sounding hoarse the further they drove toward Missouri. He should have gotten some tissues at the market, as now his nose was dripping. He snorted and wiped his sleeve across his face.

"Dude, did you just wipe your nose on your sleeve?" Dean grinned over at his brother then moved his eyes back to the road and the rain blaring down on the windshield.

Sam just rolled his eyes and cleared his throat again.

"I think you're getting sick…that's what I think." Dean offered.

"Am not. Just drive." _Oh crap, Dean in big brother mode_.

"If you're sick, this black dog can wait. We can rest up a day or so."

"I'm fine Dean, can't let this thing keep killing innocents."

Dean nodded his head in agreement as the car whipped in the windy gusts caused by the rain. Sam let out a little cough and struggled to keep it under control as his brother gave him a concerned glare.


	4. Chapter 4

**Catch Me When I Fall**

By supernaturaldh

**Chapter 4**

**And the Rain did Fall**

The cold rain pelted against the windshield of the Impala. Dean looked over at his sleeping brother, snoring lightly in the seat beside him. He could wake Sam, but decided against it; he knew he wasn't up to 100 and probably needed to rest. He would wait until he got the room to rouse his brother. He shrugged to himself, as he realized he was about to get drenched as he exited the car. The dim vacancy sign flashed slowly through the incessant rain; he really did not like the looks of this establishment, but he was dog tired and knew he could not keep driving. _Why would anyone build this motel in the middle of freaking no where_? They had driven right through Hanging Hills Missouri not thirty minutes ago, no motel in sight. The small town had only one stop light, a post office, dairy dip, store, and gas station. _Some town this was. No bar._ He had continued on Highway 24 some twenty two miles further before coming upon this lovely establishment. _What a dump_. He hastily stepped to the manager's office, hand pulling open the door as the rainwater dripped down his face.

"Hey, I need a double room please, two nights." Dean shook his head, the water falling in droplets on the counter top as his face took in the woman before him. She was short, only standing to about his shoulders, no makeup, wrinkles crisscrossing her features, grey hair hanging limply to her shoulders. _She is freaking old_.

"It's a bad night to be out." The matronly lady stated as she gave Dean the once over. A curious woman, she seemed more than intrigued by the young, soggy man before here, appearing in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere.

"Yea." Dean reached into his wallet and threw the newest fake credit card for 'Richard Nixon' to the counter.

The woman eyed the Impala through the rain dampened window noticing the young man sleeping in the front seat.

"You two are out late. Don't get to many visitors round these parts." She commented as she rung up the credit card.

"Got caught out in the rain, couldn't find a motel near Hanging Hills."

"Nope, you won't find too much of nothing in Hanging Hills, but a bunch of worried folk."

Dean's interest was peeked. "Worried?" He flashed his green eyes at the woman's apprehensive features.

She handed the card to Dean and placed the receipt in front of him to sign.

"Oh yeah", she continued, "Been a lot of people dying in Hanging Hills lately. There ain't too many folk living round here anymore. I have been here now on fifty years."

_Let's just see what she knows. _"Dying? What happened to them?" Dean signed the receipt and gave the manager his best 'Dean smile'.

The night manager leaned across the counter, eyes gleaming at Dean, trepidation radiating from her tone. "A black dog, it's what I heard. The cops aren't talking about it, but the people round here are. It killed three people so far, appearing and disappearing at random during the night near Jack's Fork River, bout two miles back. Not too many people going down that way now." Her eyebrow scrunched up in a little grimace. "You're in room 6, down to your right."

Dean nodded his head as he snatched the room key from here fingers. "Well, we won't be going down there, that's for sure." He grinned, and turned to head back to the car, the matronly manager nodding her head.

"Good." Her lips curled into a little frown, as she watched the young man walk back out into the downpour and pull the car away. "Good."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam blinked his heavy eyelids open and squinted through the raindrops at the name above the flashing vacancy sign, 'Hairy Jack Inn'. _Where the hell are we_? He could see his brother leaning across the counter inside, talking to the night manager. He swallowed down the knot that seemed to be sitting in his throat, feeling the pangs of his raw tonsils as he did so. _Man his throat was tender_. He rubbed between his eyes with his fingers, his stuffy head struggling to breathe in air through his clogged sinuses. _Time for some medication._ He grabbed the box from his jacket pocket and quickly swallowed two pills before Dean returned to the car. _This looks like a dump._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Both Winchester's were not disappointed as they opened the door to room 6 at the 'Hairy Jack Inn'. The room was musty, the aroma of day old cigarettes heavy enough to permeate Sam's stuffy sinus. The paint was peeling from the walls, and the carpet was thick with dirt. Both boys cringed as Dean flicked on the light.

"Don't take off your socks Sammy, might get a fungus off this carpet." Dean snickered out as he flung his bag to the floor.

"No kidding, this place sucks." Sam dropped his bag and fell across the bed, the mildewed odor of the comforter making his stomach do a little flip.

It's the only place for miles. Get some sleep; we got to hunt this black dog tomorrow." Dean did not bother to turn down the nasty bed covers, as he lay gingerly down on top of them, clouds of dust rising up and bellowing around his frame.

"Damn, this place has not ever seen a maid." Dean reached over and let his finger flick off the light; the darkness claiming both of the weary travelers.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean pulled the cell phone out of his coat pocket in one quick motion, the ringing stirring him from his restful sleep. He cringed again as the morning light fell in through the window. _This place is even worse in the daylight. _

"'Hello, Hey, hey, Bobby. Yeah, we got here last night."

Sam stirred in the bed next to Dean, his brother's voice blaring through his aching head. He heaved in a little breathe as his throat and sinus protested at the motion. He opened his sleepy eyelids and took in the bleary room that they were staying in.

_This place just sucks._

"Yea, we will be going out this afternoon, see if we can find this damn black dog. Yeah."

Sam pushed to a sitting position. _He hated listening to half a conversation_. He stumbled to his duffle, opening the zipper, and reached in for a change of clothes.

_He needed some more medication. He felt like crap. _He made hasty steps to the bathroom, anxious to get in a dose of the coveted pills when his brother was not looking. "Shower", he mumbled as he passed Dean still lying on the bed.

"Yeah, we will call you later to let you know how it goes. Yea got it Bobby. Got it, I know how to hunt a black dog."

Sam slammed the bathroom door closed as his brother discussed the hunt with Bobby. _Drugs need some drugs_.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The light drizzle was cold as it fell on Sam's face. He gripped the shotgun tighter in his wet fingers, the slickness making it hard to hold on to. He swallowed. _The two _

_Tylenol cold pills did not seem to be helping him this morning_. He could not contain the sneezes that welled up in his throat and escaped from his lips.

"Ah-cho, Ah-cho, Ah-cho." He shuddered as he wiped his coated arm across his face. Dean stopped in front of him, turning around to face him in one quick motion.

"You are sick, you ass. I knew you were sick. We should not be out here looking for this stupid black dog in the rain." Dean's face was tensed up, anger radiating from his features.

"I'm fine Dean. Keep moving." Sam nudged him with his elbow as he walked past his shorter brother.

"Humph." The only sound coming from Deans lips. He quickened his step to an even gait with his baby brother. The thunder rumbled the lightning scorching across the sky as the bottom fell out of the cloud; the drizzle turning into a deluge of raindrops. Dean squinted and Sam sneezed again as they trudged on through the afternoon downpour scouring the woods around the river.


	5. Chapter 5

**Catch Me When I Fall**

By supernaturaldh

**Chapter 5**

**Slippery Slope**

The rain continued to fall at a steady pace, Dean and Sam walking slowly through the soggy tree limbs and waterlogged underbrush; mud squishing underneath their shoes. They both peered down from the top of the hillside to the murky waters of Jack's Fork River churning below them. The rain was easing off to a drizzle as Sam looked over at his brother.

"So, tell me again about this black dog?" Sam's voice screeched.

Dean turned a concerned frown toward his brother. They were both soaked to the bone, but Dean was none the worse for the wear; Sam on the other hand, sounded so hoarse that Dean could barely understand him.

"Sam, let's got back to the motel, you're sick. This damn dog can wait a few days." Dean's voice tense with apprehension. _Sam was so freaking hard headed. He was John Winchester made over. _

"So, tell me again about this black dog?" Sam's voice squealed out again, water dripping down his face as he glared at Dean.

"Bobby said; if we don't find the dog, then we have to do the summoning spell. We have to shoot the dog with iron rounds. Once it's gone, we have to figure out who is calling black dogs up from hell, and stop them from doing it. Okay, Sam? But we sure as crap don't have to do this all today." Dean's tone was steadily growing angry; he suddenly turned and began walking away from the Sam. His mind set, he had full intentions of going back to the car, the motel, and getting his brother out of the rain. _Whether he liked it or not!_

Sam watched his brother's retreating back. _Dean was right, he felt like crap. Just hang it up, and go back to the motel. _He slowly trudged his muddy sneakers up behind his brother, falling silently in to follow. Suddenly, he heard a growling noise in front of them, his footsteps coming to a halt. Dean stopped too, a chill running down his spine; the growling noise undeniable in the brush. Dean's body recognized the danger, and he swiftly stepped in front of Sam, big brother mode kicking into high gear. Sam pulled in a small breathe as surprise flowed through his veins.

Dean raised his gun up; eyes squinting through the raindrops, stomach suddenly tided in a knot_. This damn thing was right on top of them. How the hell did he let this happen? _His hazel eyes darted around the brush; Sam mocking his actions, his eyes flitting from one side to the other. Both Winchester's heard the angry growling, their eyes straining, still not seeing the creature.

Unexpectedly the large black dog bounded out of the brush and shadows, large steely paws floundering toward their faces, red eyes piercing, fangs flashing angrily. The next motions happened as if time was dragging. Dean stumbling toward the side to get out of the animals way, knocking clumsily into is younger brother to push him back. The sound of Sam falling backwards, tumbling through the wet, muddy grass; rolling head over heals down the slight embankment. Dean feeling the black dog as his razor sharp teeth bit into his shoulder, sinking below his jacket, shirt, and into the meaty flesh at the base of his neck. He quickly pointed the gun into the dog's chest, as it gnawed on his neck, he pulled the trigger; the dog falling limply down the front of his jacket, teeth still firmly in place.

"Son of a b…" Dean dropped his gun with a thud to the ground, pulling his fingers up to pry the vicious teeth from his neck. "Shit." He whispered, his vision momentarily wavering as he pulled the dogs vice grip from his body. He slung the animal against a tree with exaggerated force as it fell lifelessly to the ground. He pulled his hand back up to the bite, which was now steadily flowing blood down his neck. He pulled a bandana from his coat pocket and gingerly pressed it against the flowing bite mark, cringing as the pain peaked and ran down his shoulder.

"Sam." He turned to see that Sam was no longer standing behind him, eyes whizzing around the trees, the bushes, the ground, looking for his brother.

"SAM." His tone rising as the apprehension climbed. "SAM…MY."

His eyes darted down the embankment where they settled on his brother; curled up on the ground, water puddles gathering around his body. His neck suddenly forgotten, the bandana fell to the damp ground. Dean's boots haphazardly skidded through the muddy grass and muck down the embankment to his brother's side. He fell heavily to his knee as he cupped Sam's chin in his soggy hand. He gazed attentively at Sammy's face, rubbing his fingers lightly through his brother's hair, lingering over the large knot on the back of his head.

_He was cold_. That was the first feeling he had as he began to struggle to do what the voice was telling him to do. "Sam, Sam…Open your eyes." The voice sounded distressed. _God his head hurt_. He lifted his heavy head from the wet ground and looked blearily at his brother, his eyes sagging closed again, and he dropped his head back to the ground.

"Don't do that….Open your eyes." Dean's insistent voice made its way back to Sam's ears, his eyes blinking hazily back open. He struggled to push himself up, fingers moving the muddy dirt, damp sneakers sliding in the grass around him. _He was soaked to the bone_. Dean's hands gripped Sam's arms, pulling him to a sitting position, Sam leaning slightly sideways.

"You okay?" Dean's voice stammered out as he pushed his brother back up right.

"Did you knock me down?" Sam posed curious brown orbs at Dean; lashes blinking blearily as he tried to gain control of his faculties.

"Yeah, I saved your ass…again." Dean grinned as he pulled Sam to his feet. Dean wobbled slightly on his own unsteady legs, hands gripping tightly to Sam's arms. _Am I holding Sam up, or is he holding me up?_

"Dean, you're bleeding!" Panic rose in Sam's scratchy voice. Sam pulled away from Dean's grasp as he placed his hand up against Dean's chin and tilted his head to the side. The puncture wounds from the dog bite prominent on his lower neck and shoulder blade.

"Just a bite, I'm fine." Dean heaved in a breath of air, then, struggled out of Sam's grasp. He bent down and retrieved Sam's gun. "You might want this, dude."

Sam shivered as the water logged clothes he was wearing soaked through to skin. He followed his brother up the slippery sloop of the hillside, sneakers squeaking through the mud. Dean snatched up his gun and bloody bandana as he walked through the misty rain. Sam struggled to pull in air as he climbed the slight incline. _Boy, I'm really out of shape._ He began coughing about halfway up he hill, his throat and stuffy sinuses not wanting to cooperate.

"You okay?" Dean pressed the bandana back against his neck, noticing the bleeding was letting up. _But damn, it hurt like a mother_.

"Yea, just need some cold medication, and a warm bed." Sam whispered as the Impala came into view.

"If someone is summoning black dogs from hell, then we probably will see another one." Dean offered as the drizzle turned into a steady rain. He opened the trunk and both dropped their waterlogged guns with a thump.

"Guess we will have to do the ritual and draw out the dog and his master." Sam's voice croaked out as he moved to get into the car. "Just hope no one else dies."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The heat was starting to stifle Sam as the car hummed back toward the motel. The thirty minute drive seeming to take forever. _It's so hot in here_.

"Dean, turn the heat down; it's burning up in here."

Dean let the bandana covered with blood drop to the floorboard as he eyed his little brother. Sam sat, head leaning back on the bench seat, arms across his stomach. He was wringing wet, hell, they both were sopping, but at least they were out of the rain. He flicked the heat off with his hand as the Impala roared down the highway. He pulled his fingers from the heater back up to the dog bite; it was no longer bleeding, the pain having dimmed to a light thudding. _Damn dog._


	6. Chapter 6

**Catch Me When I Fall**

By supernaturaldh

**Chapter 6**

**Hot in Here**

The car eased into the parking lot of the 'Hairy Jack Inn', Dean's shoulder pulsating with every thump of his heartbeat; pain radiating down his arm to his elbow, and up through his neck. He glanced over at his brother, who was sleeping with his head leaned toward the passenger window, hands dangling limply in his lap. Sam's mouth was hanging open slightly, air coming in pants through his parted lips, heavy breathe fogging up the window. The rain had ceased about five minutes back, now just drops rolling down the windshield, the wind still howling and moaning around the car. The daylight was gone, the blackness of night rolling slowly over the river valley, everything taking on a misty hue.

Dean reached his good arm across the seat, cringing as pain flared with the movement, and gently nudged his brother. Sam made no effort to wake up, so Dean gave him a little shake.

"Sam, we're here."

His brother's head rolled slowly from the window to look at him. A coughing fit ravished his lanky frame, and he struggled to hold his head up. It was then that Dean realized something was wrong with his brother. Sam's face was flushed, eyes glazed over with a dazed, confused look, lashes blinking slowly over his lids. Dean gently touched his fingers across his brother's damp bangs, pushing them off his forehead.

"Jez, Sammy, you're burning up!"

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, but hacking; another coughing fit so intense his eyes watered. His throat felt raw, his head felt like a blob of cotton. He blinked his eyes slowly, willing the haze away.

"It's so hot…ho...Hot." He croaked out as he struggled to get his arms out of his jacket, body trembling with the motion. Dean grabbed his brother's flailing arms with a firm grasp, holding him tightly. His on body spiking a wave of pain down his neck to his fingers; he hesitated at the motion, but his hands kept their grip. _Damn that hurts._

"Sam, stop it." Dean's words firmly pierced through the fog in Sam's mind. He squinted at Dean, the attempt making his eyes burn. He exhaled air and whispered through his cloudy senses. "…'Kay…"

Dean's pain filled features locked on his brother; he was looking at him with large, wild, feverish eyes. Dean recognized the innocent fever flushed face, those wide eyes. It was seven year old Sammy he was seeing; the one that trusted Dean to take care of everything. He winched as Sam leaned back against the seat in one swift motion, taking his throbbing arm with him. Sam's head nodded in slow motion, his lips curling in tiny smile. "…'Kay Dea…n, 'Kay."

Dean pulled his arm from his little brother's grasp, a small moan coming from his throat. _Take care of Sam_. He exited the Impala as quickly as his aching shoulder and arm would allow. Struggling with the key in the door, he glanced back through the windshield as his brother, his head now leaning against the passenger window, eyes closed. The motel door flung open with a thud, and he made quick steps back to the Impala. He wrenched open the passenger door, his hands coming to rest against Sam's shoulders as he spilled out onto the asphalt. _ Breathe through the pain, breathe through it. Help Sammy. _

"Sam…Sammy, you got to help me here bro. Help me get you in the room." Dean's weak arm made it difficult to hold up his brother. _Gees Sammy, lay off the lucky charms._

"Don't n'ed...elp… I c'n do it." Sam slurred, his knees buckling as he made a feeble attempt to stand. Dean braced his brother against the Impala, his own pain making Sam seem like dead weight.

"Sor...ry." Sam mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes as he leaned weakly against the car. "Feel b...b...bad."

"It's okay Sammy. You got a fever buddy." Dean curled his good arm around his brother and pulled him into his body. "COM' on Sam, it's just a few feet. See the door?" _Come on you big lug, work with me here._

Sam raised his head, his wet bangs falling across his vision as he gaped at the distance, eyes blinking confusedly. "…Too…f...far..." He wheezed out between coughing seizers.

"No it's not, lean on me. Let's get you inside and get that fever down." Dean said as he encouraged his brother's gangly legs to move in a forward motion; half dragging Sam into the motel room. Finally, after several wobbly steps, Dean eased Sam down on the bed; his brother sitting on the too lumpy mattress, swaying ever so slightly.

"We got to get those wet cloths off." Dean hands reached down and pulled off Sam's soggy sneakers; his socks soaked clean through. _His feet are like icebergs. Damn it Sammy._ Sam blinked his eyes down at his feet.

"Can't f'l my toes." Sam offered as he flung boneless back on the bed, head thudding gently against the bedspread. Dean continued yanking off sopping wet clothes till Sam way lying shivering in his boxers; quickly grabbing blankets he wrapped Sam up, tucking the layers in around him. Dean's neck and shoulder throbbing with the movement. _Sam first, take care of Sammy_.

He reached into the first aid kit, pulling out the thermometer and stuck it gently into Sam's ear. Sam mumbled something about a 'wet wily' causing Dean to grin lightly_. Did he just say, don't give me a wet wily?_ The thermometer beeped and Dean hesitatingly eyed the reading. _103.8 Shit!_

"Okay, Sammy. We got to get that fever down right now." Dean hastily rushed to the bathroom, stuck the rubber stopper, water funneling out in full force in the tub. His neck and arm seemed not near as painful as the pure adrenaline pumped through his veins. _Get the fever down, get the fever down, get the fever down._

Once the tub was full, he pulled Sam up to a standing position, Sam's head lolling around on his neck like a rag doll. Dean wrapped both his arms tightly around his brother and pulled him to standing position, leading him toward the bathroom; the blankets falling to the ground in a silent crumple. Just as they reached the doorway, Sam's knees buckled, his eyes rolling closed, as he swayed into Dean.

"Sammy…Sam…Sam", can you hear me; Dean leaned down and said loudly in brother's ear. Sam eyes dragged open into mere slits as he looked up at Dean, his arms reaching up and floundering around trying grasp onto him.

"De..." Sam whispered as his breath drug in raggedly through his stuffy head.

"Come on little brother", Dean leaned Sam up to a sitting position, looking at him as he slumped into his arms; he realized Sam was never making it to the tub on his own steam. Dean gently bent down and grabbed Sam beneath the knees, laying his head up on his own shoulder, curling him to his chest, like he was still a small child

"I gotcha. I gotcha kiddo." Dean lifted an unaware Sammy to the tub, laying him into the cool water. Normally, Sam was heavy, but in that moment, Dean did not seem to notice. _Get the fever down_. Sam's body flinched unconsciously with the motion, but his eyes did not open, his head resting on the side of the tub as Dean held him tightly in his grasp, praying the water would pull Sammy from the soaring fever.

Suddenly Sam's eyes popped open. "No…no…co...Cold", Sam squirmed and tried to push himself out of the tub. Dean held him steady, hands firmly holding him in place. Sam's energy eventually wavering, he slumped to the tub.

"Its okay, Sammy…I gotcha". Dean took a rag from the ratty towel rack on the back of the bathroom door; he began to gently wipe off Sam's sweat drenched brow. Sam slumped back into the tub, head lolling from side to side. His breath began to calm down, the shaking subsiding, he seemed to be getting more oxygen to his weaken body.

"Sammy…you with me here?" Dean asked, concern in his tone.

Sammy slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Dean then around the tub.

"What…We tak'n a bath?" Sam voice was weak, but his eyes were clearer, a small smirk on his face. Dean could see that his fever was coming down to a more manageable level.

Dean quickly grabbed a towel and leaned down to help Sam up and out of the tub.

"You had a high fever, bro; had to get your temperature down". Dean reached down and pulled Sam up to a standing position and began drying him off. Sam weaved on his weak legs. Dean grabbing him to steady his movement. He sat Sam down on the toilet led, leaning his head against the cool tile of the bathroom wa11, and went to get him some dry clothes.

"Here, Sammy lets get these dry clothes on you and get you in the bed".

"'Kay" Sam did not flinch; he just blinked his trusting eyes as his brother. _Dean will catch me if I fall. _ He rested his heavy head back on the wall and waited for Dean to help him. Eventually, after some effort on his part, Dean got Sam dressed in his sleep pants and tee shirt and eased him into bed. Sam's mind blank, a light humming in his head. He felt himself starting to drift, just beyond the sleep that was coming to claim him. He struggled to get air in through his clogged head, mind wishing his throat was not so sore.

"Wait…Sam….take these pills", Dean held three Tylenol pills to his brothers lips, Sam opened his mouth while not even looking at Dean, his shaky hands attempting to take the cup from his brother, Dean resisting Sam's attempts, holding it tightly in his grip. Sam sipped on the cool water, his hazy puppy dog eyes leering up through his bangs at his older brother. The water felt so good going down his scratchy throat that he gulped it greedily.

"Whoa, don't drink to fast, it will make you sick". Dean sat the cup down on the nightstand, pulled the covers up, and brushed his brother's too long locks out of his eyes.

"Just rest" he said quietly, barely above a whisper. His own adrenaline was waning, the pain in his neck and shoulder spiking down his arm.

Sam heard Dean, his heavy limbs barely wanting to move. He felt callus hands running tenderly through his hair; it lulled him to a feverish, restless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Catch Me When I Fall**

By supernaturaldh

**Chapter 7**

**Who will save me?**

Dean Winchester sat perched on the side of his brother's bed, holding a cool cloth to Sam's forehead. It hand only been two hours since their ill-fated encounter with the black dog at Jack's Fork River; Sam languishing in the throws of the fever since they returned. Deans concerns for his little brother taking precedence over his own pain. He dipped the rag in the bowl of cool water balanced precariously on his lap; his own fingers shaking with the motion. He had been running on shire willpower for the last forty-five minutes, perspiration building up on his own forehead as he tried to bring Sam's fever down. He couldn't remember the last time Sam had a fever this high. Suddenly, Sam seemed to be struggling to wake; his lashes fluttering open, he gazed glassy eyes blinking up at his brother. _Thank god, the fever is coming down some_.

"..ean?.." Sam's voice came out raspy and hoarse.

"Hey there kiddo." Dean spoke in a soft tone; relief flooding through his body, he curled his lips in a small smile. His fingers continuing to press the cool rag to Sam's flushed face and cheeks.

"What 'appened?" Sam seemed anxious, confused, his body still in the throws of the fever.

"You had a high fever, but it's coming down now. Just relax. It's okay. Just rest." Dean watched as Sam's sluggish eyes drooped shut, exhaustion overtaking his trembling frame. He tugged the blanket up beneath Sam's chin, listening as his brother seemed to struggle to get in air through his congested body. _If Sam isn't better in the morning, he is going to the doctor! _

The reality of the last two hours slowly dawned on Dean's body. His legs were weak as he stood from his spot by Sam's side. He heaved in a deep breathe as his vision tunneled in a blur of blackness. He blinked his eyes and attempted to focus on the bathroom door, six feet away. _You can do it._ _Just get to the bathroom. Take a look at that bite._

Leaning on the doorframe, he took one last glance at Sam; he was in a feverish sleep, but he seemed to be resting now. Dean flicked on the bathroom light and left the door cracked, not wanting to loose contact with his ailing brother. He slowly pulled off his shirt and leaned in across the sink eyes squinting at the bit mark. The bite, positioned at the nap of his neck, was red and puffy. He could not see the entire wound very well, noticing it was more to the back of his neck than the front. He twisted to the left, and slowly turned his neck; the pain radiating down his shoulder and arm and up through his neck. _Son of a bitch that hurts. Wish Sam could take a look at this. _He opened the bottle of holy water, and dumped it all in one big whoosh on the wound, the mark bubbling and hissing as pain peaked to a sharpness that caused his ears to ring, his eyes to blur. He gripped the ceramic sink with white knuckles as he fought to remain standing. _Breathe threw it, breathe threw it_. Momentarily, the holy water did its job, and the pain subsided to a large dull throb. Dean let out a ragged breathe as he twisted the top off the peroxide and grinded his teeth, pouring the red liquid over the wound with slight hesitation. More fizzing occurred as the offending liquid did its job, cleaning the frayed teeth marks on his tender flesh. The light in the room seem to dim slightly, as Dean sagged slowly to the sink again, shaky fingers gripping for a hold. In his haste to grip the sink, his unsteady arm knocked the peroxide bottle over, the red fluid guzzling out into a large puddle on the dirty floor. He took another deep unstable breathe and dropped a towel to cover the puddle. Sliding out of his water soaked jeans, socks, and shoes he gingerly stepped into the shower, adjusting the hot water as he leaned against the tile wall. A wave of nausea assaulted his body; he shuddered under the pulsating hot water. _Get a grip here Winchester. Get a grip. _

Sam woke slightly, eyes fluttering to half mast; he struggled to release his feet from the bindings, a tangled mass of blankets that seemed to be suffocating him. He fiercely kicked the offending objects to the floor. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. _It is so freaking hot in here_.

"De...a...n." Sam's voice sounded weak and whispery? He attempted to push himself up, but his wobbly arms protested the motion and he faded back to the mattress. His anxiety peeked as he strained to hear something from his brother. Then the comforting sound of the shower pinging against the tiles caught his attention. _Dean_. His apprehension waned and he slumped back against the pillow, letting the sound of the running water assault his mind, relaxing him back to his troubled sleep.

Dean wretched off the water, gripping the shower curtain with his fingers. The heat was now a steaming fog wavering in the bathroom and he was slightly light headed. He stepped shaky steps from the shower, running a towel slower over his damp limbs. He guided his unsteady legs into his comfy sweatpants. The pain throbbed in his wounded neck muscle. He stopped and tilted his head straining to hear Sam in the bedroom, was he mumbling something? He took hurried steps to open the bathroom door and gazed out at his brother; Sam was thrashing around on top of the sheets, blankets jumbled on the floor. Dean's last conscious thought was to get to his brother, his foot slipping on the towel covered in peroxide, legs flying out from under his body. He heard and felt the side of his head smacking against the bathroom counter with a thud, the darkness overtaking his senses.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bobby Singer had been calling Dean Winchesters cell phone for the last two hours, the knowledge from his recent research in regards to the black dog in Hanging Hills making it imperative he talk to the brothers. He was angry at himself; he had not found all the information about their hunt before he gave them the coordinates to go there. Now, twenty-fours later, he had all the information and he could not reach the brothers. A bad feeling was settling in his gut. He ran the list of names in his phone, punching in the number for Sam again; surely he would answer his phone. He listened as the phone rolled to Sam's normal voice mail message. "You've reached Sam, leave a message; I'll call you back." _Damn it._ Bobby quickly ran his list of numbers and punched the button for Tom Baldwin, his chest tightening momentarily. _Pick up, pick up Tom. _

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tom Baldwin had just finished off a hunt for a nasty poltergeist in Harrison Arkansas; settling in at the motel, beer in one hand, remote in the other. He was enjoying some much needed downtime; tomorrow he would be calling Bobby Singer for details on a new hunt. Tonight, however, it was beer, and sleep he most wanted. He lounged on the bed, his large frame taking up most of the mattress as his finger flicked the channels on the T.V. He was just about to doze when the shrill sound of his cell phone stirred him to wakefulness. Snatching the cell off the nightstand he glanced down at the caller I.D. as he smiled and flipped open the phone.

"Hey Bobby, how you doing?" Tom slung his long legs to the floor as he leaned into the phone call, his interest in what his mentor, Bobby Singer had to say waking his sleepy brain.

"Hi Tom, I'm fine. How the salt and burn go?" Bobby fought to remain calm as he listened to Tom's vivid details of his last hunt. Tom Baldwin was new to hunting, his excitement radiating in his voice as he revealed his escapades to Bobby.

"Listen Tom, I need you to do me a favor." Bobby revealed, Tom stopping in the middle of his story.

"Sure man, you know I will do whatever I can."

"It's Sam and Dean; I can't reach them. You're closer to their location than I am. I need you to check on them, but make it casual. You know how Dean can be. Wouldn't want to piss him off, make him think I'm trying to be his babysitter."

"So where are they, what's going on?" _Bobby sounds worried_. Tom slid his large feet into his army boots as he curled the phone to his neck. His fingers hastily grabbed his personal belongings and started shoveling them into his duffle.

"I sent them to Hanging Hills Missouri, hunting a black dog. I thought it was just a normal black dog, find it, and kill it, normal stuff. But, I found out some more details today, and I have been trying to call Sam and Dean to warn them. They don't answer their phones. It's got me worried. They need to know what they are up against."

"So what is the deal with the dog?" Tom grabbed his duffle to his shoulder as he opened the motel room door and made quick steps toward his truck.

"It seems someone is summoning this damn dog, so killing it won't do, you have to kill the one that summons it. Sam and Dean probably figured that out already. The thing is, it's happening every 69 years exactly. Thirteen people were brutally murdered 69 years ago this month, in the same manner, in Hanging Hills, and 69 years before that. It goes back for the last two hundred years. Every 69 years like clockwork. It's not a normal black dog; someone is summoning it, someone who has a strong connection."

"So who is summoning it?" Tom Baldwin pulled his truck to the highway, headlights blaring toward Missouri as he questioned Bobby, concern in his tone.

"I'm not sure, but Sam and Dean are right in the middle of it, as usual. I need them to know what their up against. I haven't talked to them since yesterday, they were going out to hunt the dog this afternoon. I just…I need you to ch'k…get word to them, can you do that, Tom?"

"I'm already on the way." Tom glanced to his wristwatch. "Should be there in two hours."

"Great, they are at the 'Hairy Jack Inn'. Tom, I just feel responsible…" Bobby let out a slight sigh as concern weighed heavy in his tone.

"I get it Bobby, got it covered. I will call you as soon as I find them. Bobby, I am sure everything is fine."

Bobby snapped shut his cell phone, flopping boneless to the chair. He ripped his ragged ball cap from his head and slung it across the floor. _It's going to be a long freaking night. _

Tom Baldwin slung his cell phone to the front seat, his own concern for Sam and Dean pulsing through his veins. He felt his foot push harder on the accelerator as the truck whipped down the highway. _Damn it, Dean_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 8**

**Don't Call me Boy**

The large Chevy barreled down Highway 24 in Missouri at a steady pace, wind whipping by the windows as Tom Baldwin pushed the limits to cut the trip by thirty minutes. His eyes spotted the sign for the 'Harry Jack Inn' looming off in the darkness, florescent lights blinking on and off in an eerie red glow. Bobby had already called Tom three times, during the drive over, and Tom knew this situation was more than a little disconcerting. Bobby and he had continually called Dean and Sam's cell phones during the last hour and a half, neither boy answering. _Oh Dean would be so pissed if he knew they were calling them both boys. Get to 'the boys'_. Tom smirked at the notion and let his eyes flit around the parking lot. _What a dump_. It was not difficult to locate the large black car sitting all alone, parked at an odd angle in front of the building. _It looks like they made a quick exit from the car_. Tom screeched the truck to an abrupt halt right next to the Impala, barely putting it in park and shutting down the engine before his feet made purchase to the damp asphalt. He did not realize how anxious he was, until he heard his own heartbeat thumping in his ears, as his feet thudded on the pavement. _Calm down, they are probably fine. Get it together Baldwin_. His eyes glanced quickly up at the room numbers as he made fast strides down the sidewalk toward 'the boys' room; coming to an abrupt stop in front of number six. The curtain was drawn tightly shut, the slight glow from the parking lot light glimmering on the window. Tom flipped open his cell phone one last time and punched in Dean's number, he hoped Dean would pick up the phone, so he could yell 'Surprise, I was in the area' and everything would be fine. He keened his head toward the door; he could hear the phone ringing on the other side. No movement, no noise, just the phone ringing, ringing, ringing. He quickly shut the cell phone closed with a click and stuffed it back in his pocket. He brought his large hand heavily to the door, smacking it several times with his open palm.

"Dean, Sam, its Tom, open up." Tom's voice was authoritative, the tone very intense as it echoed through night air, his forehead resting up against the door. _Nothing, Damn it._ "Guys, open the damn door." He was greeted once again with silence. _Okay that's it_. He took two steps back and levied his right foot at an angle ramming it with one quick motion into the door, the lock breaking as the old door flung open with a thud.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam swallowed gradually, his throat sore, his mouth parched and dry. He felt his sweat drenched body and aching limbs languishing on the bed, his eyes to heavy to open as he struggled to catch his breathe. He could hear the ringing; the incessant ringing was weaving its way through his sluggish thoughts. "..Ean..." he mumbled, his tongue thick, "You're ph'ns rin'n." _Maybe that's my phone ringing_? He batted his gritty eyelids as he tried to open them, to distinguish where he was. He was so hot. He pulled his shaky hand to his face, feeling the dampness of a rag lying limply there. He wretched it away, flinging it to the floor. "..ean? The ph'n." He felt anxiety rise up as his mind tried to comprehend the situation. _Dean? Phone?_ He wanted to get up and answer it, to see his brother, but his limbs were like lead, his chest weighed down by the rock that sat on top of him. He pulled in the thick air around him, attempting to gulp it in his lungs. "…ean?" He blinked his hazy, bloodshot eyes several times, fatigue pulling him under, he slipped once again into oblivion.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean stirred at the sounds of commotion, a voice in the distance, someone yelling. "Dean, Sam, its Tom, open up." _Tom's here_? _Boy, he had a headache, and why did his neck hurt_? "Guys, open the damn door." _Tom sounded pissed_. He wanted to open his eyes, open the door; but his body just wanted to flourish in this comfortable place between wakefulness and sleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rush of fear pumped through Tom Baldwin's body as his mind registered what he saw. The light from the small lamp on the end table put a light glow over the room. His eyes fell swiftly to the second bed, Sam's gangly frame lying on top of the sheets, blankets in a lumpy mass on the carpet. He stepped in four large strides to look down at the still form. _Something is not right here_? _If Sammy was sleeping, he would have woken with the ringing phone. _He noticed the beads of sweat that sat on Sam's forehead, his damp brown hair stuck to his face, his chest heaving in little pants of air. Sam wore a pair of sweatpants and tee shirt, but his body was shivering against the sheets. _Dean would not leave his brother like this. Where the hell is Dean? _ He grabbed up the blankets, placing them over Sammy's fever ridden body as his eyes glanced around the room. He faltered at the bathroom doorway and the legs that were slightly visible from the knees down. _Sweet Jesus_.

Tom ran to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his hand, the empty peroxide bottle rolling with the motion. He kneeled down, his eyes glaring at the swollen tissue on the side of Dean's neck. He touched his fingers to Dean's wrist, recognizing that his pulse was strong. He ran his fingers lightly over his body, stopping at the bite on his neckline. _Damn, a dog bite_. He gently probed the cut on the side of Dean's face, his fingers touching the lump. _No stitches needed_. Tom rose, running a rag under the warm tap water; he brought it back down across Dean's forehead and the bruised cut on his temple. Dean face tensed at the motion, and Tom tapped on his cheek with his fingers.

"Dean, Dean, can you hear me?"

Dean stirred, a slight moan coming from his lips as he blinked open his foggy eyes. He squinted as the brightness of the bathroom fixture came into view and he brought his hand up to cover his lids. His head was throbbing, right there at his temple. He reached his hand up to touch it, but Tom quickly grabbed his fingers.

"Don't touch that." Recognition dawned on Dean and he looked inquisitively up at Tom. _Was he on the bathroom floor_? _Why is Tom here_? Pain radiated through his neck and shoulder as he attempted to push himself up to a sitting position. _Dog bite, hurts._

"Come on son; let me get you off this cold floor." Dean let Tom wretch his body up from the tile, up to a standing position, his knees buckling under his own weight. Tom pulled him to his large frame, leading him toward the bed. Dean's eyes falling to the opposite bed and the memories of the previous four hours flooding back to him in a rush. He stood quickly, hands pushing, shoving Tom away.

"SAMMY…" He made rapid steps toward his brother, Tom gripping him at the elbow as he went by. "Sam." He slumped to the mattress, as both their eyes surveyed his little brother. "Help him." Dean's voice begged as he looked up at Tom.

"I've got to get the first aid kit from my truck, stay right there." Tom's tone was firm, his blue eyes piercingly strong and vibrant as he stared at Dean; who nodded his own bleary head slowly. Tom relinquished his hold on Dean's arm as he watched the eldest brother run his fingers through his little brothers sweat drenched hair; noticing the dark circles under Sam's eyes and his rosy cheeks. _He feels like he's on fire._ Dean continued his caressing motion, not noticing Tom's return to the room as he sat on the bed opposite Dean.

Tom gently stuck the thermometer in Sam's ear as the young man mumbled something that sounded a lot like Dean. He struggled and attempted to pull his head away from the offending object. Dean frowned instinctively and reached out with his hands, he grasped a hold of his brother, firmly holding him still.

"Shhhhh. It's okay Sammy. Shhhh, its okay." Dean whispered as he moved his fingers back up to his brother's forehead, pulling the rag away from his face and down his cheek.

"103.4." Tom's head nodded in a silent yes motion as he placed his hand once more against Sam's feverish forehead. "We'll cool you down, kiddo." Tom rummaged through his first aid kit pulling out the Tylenol bottle and dumping three pills in his hand. He grabbed the cup of water from the nightstand.

"Sammy, Sammy, swallow these pills." Tom brought the cup to Sam's lips, noticing a slight twitching in his eyebrows as he gazed up through parted lids at his brother.

"Drink, Sam." Dean voiced quietly as he continued to comfort his Sammy in his fevered haze. Sam's dry lips opened and he slurped in the wet liquid, relishing its coolness against his parched throat, his chest heaved and he had a violent coughing seizure. Dean gripped him tightly until the fit subsided.

"…ean?" Sam spoke in a trembling voice, his feverish eyes blinking slowly.

"Easy Sam, it's okay. Shhhhh." Dean sighed, a little shudder running through his own body.

Tom noticed the shaking coming from Dean's frame; he stood and moved to Dean's side in a mere moment, fingers probing the bite on his neck. Dean continued cooing to his brother, while his eyes roved up to Tom.

"You took good care of this; although you made quite a mess in the bathroom." He grinned at Dean, whose own lips quirked up in a smile. "Let me take care of that cut on your temple, and bandage both. Then you need to rest." Tom grabbed the first aide kit and sat next to Dean on the bed.

"Humph" Dean's voice came out in a gruff noise. "Not a chance I rest till Sam's fever comes down."

Tom shook his head in disbelieve and pushed the gauze with antiseptic down on Dean's cut temple. _This boy is so damn hard headed_. Dean hissed in pain and pulled slightly away from Tom's fingers.

"Be still." Tom ordered, and Dean steadied against his hand. Tom reapplied antiseptic to his dog bite and placed bandages on both injuries as Dean kept an ever vigilant eye on Sam.

Tom's cell phone rang into the silence of the room and he quickly grabbed closed the first aid kit and grabbed his phone from his pocket. "Yea Bobby, I was about to call you. I got um, their going to be fine. Yea, yes, okay, I will call you tomorrow with all the details. I will, I promise." Tom flipped his phone closed and glimpsed at Sam.

_I should have known Bobby was involved. Thank goodness he gives a crap about us_. Dean grinned at the thought, as he continued to watch his little brother.

"He seems to be cooler Dean, you need to take a break." Tom offered as he momentary looked from Sam back to Dean.

"Check his fever." Dean whispered.

Tom rounded the bed and applied the thermometer back to Sam's ear, then waited for the beep. Dean's eyes watched the motion with trepidation.

"101.8. Dean, come on son, his fever is better, you need to get some rest."

Dean's peered weakly up at Tom, hesitation overflowing from his weary eyes.

_Okay, I've had enough of this crap._ Tom glared down at Dean.

"Dean, off the bed; lie down NOW." Tom's voice was authoritative, no room for argument.

Dean recognized this tone from his youth and his shoulders tightened to attention with the memory. He took one last look at Sammy as he stood on his limp legs, taking 3 steps and falling to the bed, face nuzzled into the pillow.

"You watch him for me?" Dean's muffled voice spoke into the pillow, weak and tired.

"Yes, Dean, I will watch him. I'll wake you if he changes or wakes up." Tom grabbed a remaining blanket from the floor and pulled up over Dean; whose head turned to the side, eyes squinting up at Tom. "Thanks", he whispered.

Tom stepped back to sit on the bed next to Sam, hand dragging the damp cloth over the feverish boys face and neck. He glanced back over to see Dean, sound asleep, snoring lightly. Tom grinned, Dean had dozed as soon as his head hit the pillow and his mouth murmured his 'thanks'. It was good to see Sam and Dean again; even it was in dire circumstances. He smiled a faint smile, as he realized just how much he had missed these two boys.


	9. Chapter 9

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 9**

**Fever**

Tom Baldwin was so weary he could barely hold his eyes open; the entire night spent sitting vigil over the Winchester brothers. The sun was slowly peaking up over the horizon, a light honey glow shimmering in through the tattered hotel curtains. Dean had awoken several times during the last six hours, wanting to take care of his brother, Tom forcing his hand, making him get some rest. He snickered to himself. He was sure Dean was exhausted after his recent encounters with a black dog, and the extremely dangerous bathroom sink. A grin curled up on his lips as he slouched lower in the cushions of the uncomfortable motel chair. _ Yep, If only he could have seen that fall, he was sure it was a Kodak moment. Dean's legs flying out from under him on a wet towel, of all things. Guy hunts demons, and can't get out of the bathroom without falling on his ass. _He let out a light grunt at the notion and scooted down further into the chair. He racked his hand over his bloodshot eyes, staring steadily over at Sam. He had given him double doses of Tylenol twice since he had arrived, the fever still hovering around 102.0. He hated to admit it, but Sam may need a hospital, a doctor for sure.

Tom was distressed; it was very unlikely Dean had forgotten the doctor's words with regards to Sam's health; "susceptible to pneumonia, lung problems, until his collapsed lung had time to heal". It had been six months, but it was obvious to Tom, Sam was fighting some kind of infection. Tom knew from his time as a medic in Iraq, it sure looked like pneumonia. He frowned; he also knew that Sam was good at hiding when he was hurt or sick from his big brother. He recalled Dean telling him that back when they first met up, on the hunt for the Chupacabra. He had discussed it at length with Bobby. Everyone who knew the boys, new Sam was always pushing Dean on such subjects, afraid he would shift into 'big brother mode'. _Sam was a grown up for gods sake, he did not need to be babied. _ He smiled as the memories of their first encounter flooded through his tired mind. It seemed like he had known them a lot longer than six months. He was drawn from his thoughts as Dean's eyes blinked open and looked directly in Tom's face.

"Hey." Dean whispered as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, the room momentarily spinning with the motion.

"Take it easy their kid." Tom shifted in the chair, elbows leaning on his knees, fingers clasping together, eyes fixed on Dean.

"How's he doing?" Dean queried as he rested his eyes on his brother. _He wasn't sure what hurt more, his neck or his head._

"He's still got the fever, I been dosing him with Tylenol. He woke awhile ago, drank some water, not sure he knew who I was, but he saw you and asked if you were okay." Tom stood and walked over to Sam, leaning down to look at his flushed face, his fingers rewetting the damp rag and laying it gently to his forehead. "We need to wake him up, get him in the car, to a doctor." Tom looked with concerned eyes from Sam to Dean.

Dean trusted Tom impeccably, if Tom said Sam needed a doctor, well then, he did. He scooted off the mattress, grimacing at the movement of his neck muscles, but determined to see Sam's face. He shuffled over next to Tom and sat slowly to Sam's bed. He reached his unsteady hand out and touched Sam's cheek with his fingers. His little brother leaned instinctively into the motion, head pressing to Dean's hand.

"Sam, wake up kiddo." Dean whispered as he leaned down close to Sam's face. Tom watched as Sam blinked open his lazy lids and looked glassy eyed up at his brother.

"Um Hum." Sam croaked out; his voice sounding hoarse and raspy. He stirred restlessly beneath the blankets. "You 'Kay?" He asked as brought his trembling hand up to Dean's fingers.

"I'm fine Sam, it's you, you are the sick one." Dean smiled a little smirk at his brother, gripping his fingers into Sam's grasping hand. "You need to see a doctor Sammy, okay?

"No…no." Sam wheezed. "I don't like doc'rs, I'm fi...fine." Sam insisted, his feverish mind unhappy with the thought of visiting a doctor.

"Tom's here, did you see Tom?" Dean attempted a new tactic to calm his brother, take his mind off of doctors.

"Tom?" Sam blinked his foggy eyes again and tried to focus on the person standing next to Dean. "It's so h…hot." Sam slurred as his legs attempted to kick the covers off with a sluggish motion, Dean resting his hand on Sam's knee to stop the action.

"It's the fever Sam, the fever." Dean patted Sam's blankets with his hand in a deliberate soothing motion. His little brother stared up at him from underneath his damp bangs, eyes large and confused.

"I'll go start the truck up, pull it to the door. Don't try to move him, I'll be back and we can do it together." Tom seized his keys off the table, head nodding in a yes motioned to Dean, his hand grabbing the doorknob. He waited, making sure Dean comprehended the plan, then took large steps out of the damaged doorway. _Damn, I gotta fix that. _

Tom eased the truck into park as he whipped his boots to the pavement, running around to the passenger side and flinging the door open. He peered around the empty parking lot, reminding himself again, what a dump the Winchesters were staying in. He took hurried steps back to the motel room.

Dean and managed to put on his own boots slowly, his still throbbing neck and shoulder slowing his motions. He grimaced with the movements, but did notice the pain was easing up a bit. _That's good_. Dean pulled Sammy up to a sitting position, fingers gripped like a vice around his little brother's elbow; Sammy swaying on the bed, hands gripping the comforter. Sam wiggled his toes as Dean attempted to pull on his socks, his lips emitting a slight giggle when Dean touched his feet. Dean grinned. _Forgot Sammy is ticklish on the bottom of his feet._ Dean's hand was still tightly wrapped around Sam's elbow, steadying him. He attempted to lace Sam's sneakers, but, with his stiff neck and arm, it was not happening. _Hell he was just happy he got his brother's big boat feet in the shoes._

"Wh're we go'n De…an?" Sammy wheezed out, his face flushed and clammy. Sam's head lolled around on his neck, as he watched Dean pulling his floppy arms into his jacket. _So not telling you little brother, because you're not fighting me on this one_.

"For a drive… with Tom." Dean pulled Sam's limp arm up over his shoulder as he saw Tom out of the corner of his eye. Tom leaned in to the other side of Sam, and they hoisted him to a standing position; Sam swaying with the movement.

Sam's head pounded and his limbs were too heavy. His chest burned as his shoes dragged on the carpet, toward the doorway. He attempted to move his feet, but they felt like lead dangling from his legs. His feverish mind filled with confusion, tears welled up in his eyes as he attempted to pull in oxygen to his burning lungs. _He felt so bad_. A long glistening teardrop rolled down his cheek and he sighed loudly.

"Shhhh. We gotcha Sammy. Shhhh." Dean's voice was reassuring, his free hand gripping Sam's fingers comfortingly.

"K...kay." Sam's eyelids were heavy, only able to open half mast as he struggled to make it to the car; Tom and Dean basically carrying him physically. Goose bumps stood on his skin and his body was quivering with every motion. His breathe wheezed out in little pants of air, forming steam clouds above him as they eased him into the truck. _Boy, he was so tired_. He leaned his head on the bench seat, but felt Dean pulling him to rest on his strong shoulder. A cool rag once again made its way across his face, resting against his forehead, Deans fingers holding it firmly in place. Sam's lips curled up in a little unconscious grin as he shifted his shivering limbs up against his brother, his body eager for warmth. He swallowed the thick saliva in the back of his parched mouth. His heart was beating so hard he could hear the rhythm in his ears. His head was threatening to explode and the pain in his chest caused him to take shallow breaths, as another coughing fit ravished his weary limbs. He drifted off, his eyes falling closed as he listened to Dean and Tom mumbling something in low whispers. _Fever's going up. Doctor. Fast. It's okay. Sammy. Shhhh._ He felt a blanket being tucked closely around his body, the passenger door slamming shut, and right before the silence took him, he heard a low humming in his ear. _Was Dean humming_? The slow purring of the engine lulled him the rest of the way into a fevered nothingness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 10**

**Rocking**

Dean's boots tapped on the dirty white tile of the hospital waiting room as he paced another round through the chairs. He had been pacing since he was separated from his little brother some forty five minutes ago. Sam had been hustled, in a mass of green hospital scrubs, behind the doors of the emergency room. He glanced over to see Tom Baldwin's large frame taking up most of the worn out pea green couch he was seated on, his cell phone clutched to his ear. He knew Tom was conversing with Bobby in regards to the hunt that had so obviously spiraled out of control. He reached his fingers up and lightly rubbed the bite mark on his neck then traced the large lump across his temple. He shook his head. When did he loose control of this situation? He had not realized how sick his brother was. Sam was getting way to good at covering up his symptoms, denying when he was sick or hurt. _Hell, if he wasn't so worried about him, he would beat the crap out of him for doing it. _He heard Tom snap his phone closed and turned to look at him.

"Bobby's on the way." Tom offered as he grabbed Dean by the sleeve of his blue jean jacket and pulled him down in the chair next to him. "SIT DOWN, you are going to wear a hole in the floor."

Dean sighed, but did not question Tom's direct order. He brought his elbows up to rest on the arms of the chair, head hanging down, resting on his hands.

"How did we end up here? How could I not have realized how sick Sammy was?" He sighed again, rubbing his finger at the butterfly bandage on his temple.

"Leave it alone." Tom swatted Dean's fingers away from his temple. "Well, first off Sam is good. We all know he has you wrapped around his finger." Tom leered up his eyebrows a smirk came to his lips.

"Oh we do, do we?" Dean's eyes flitted into little slits as he glared over at Tom.

"Sure we do, me, Bobby. Hell Dean, you know it too." Tom chuckled as he patted Dean on the top of his leg with his flat hand. "It's okay Dean, we all get it."

Dean shook his head in a slight disbelieving motion. "He's been duping me since he was three. He gives me those 'big ole puppy dog eyes', and that whinny little 'please Dean' voice. I can't help it. I have always been easily swayed when it comes to Sammy."

"I know that if Sammy does not want you to know something, he is very good at covering his tracks." Tom smiled as he leaned back further on the couch. "Bobby says, Sam has always been good at getting his way, with you, you're Dad, with him. Now, I guess you guys can add me to the list."

Dean laughed at Tom. "How true."

The emergency doors opened and a young doctor exited quickly toward the waiting room. Dean shuffled in the chair to stand up as the doctor spoke, "Sam Walker? Whose here with Sam Walker?"

Dean held his hand up. _What? Was he in first grade? _ He quickly dropped his hand back to his side.

"You're okay, stay seated." The young intense faced doctor grabbed another chair and scooted it in front of Tom and Dean, sitting the chart he was holding to the floor.

"How's my brother? How's Sam?" Dean asked anxiously.

"Just chill." _Did he just say chill_? "Sam is a very sick young man. He has double pneumonia. We are working to get his temperature under control. Right now he is on a large dose of intravenous antibiotics and fluids for the dehydration. He is struggling for air, so he has a nasal canal. I don't want to put him on a ventilator, but….."

Dean fell back in the chair, his thoughts whirling in his head. _Did he say ventilator_?

The intense humming in his ears grew stronger as blackness swirled in his vision and his body began to slump to the side. He felt a large hand on the back of his neck, pushing his head down to his knees.

"Dean, it's okay. Just breathe for a minute." Tom's large voice echoed in his ears as he felt someone gripping his wrist attempting to take his pulse.

"Mr. Walker, calm down. I said I did not want to put your brother on a ventilator. He is holding his own. He's being a little combative with the fever and all. He was trying to get out of bed; asking for you, we had to sedate him." The young doctor released Dean's wrist.

Dean raised his head, eyes piercing, the doctor's words bringing him back to awareness. He focused hard on the doctor's face. "Sam's asking for me? Where is he? Don't sedate him for that… he hates hospitals, just let me in there. I can keep him calm. He needs me."

"I'm not sure if that's necessary." The doctor stood, reaching down to grab his chart off the floor. "He is in good hands."

"Look buddy, it's necessary. Dean is his brother; he is the only person I know that can calm Sam down." Tom stood, his six foot four stature towering over the doctor; who raised his head to look up at Tom's angry face.

"Well, I don't agree." The doctor stared at Tom as if to challenge his words.

"You don't even know these boys. Look, all they have is each other. Sam needs his brother with him. He gets upset when his brother is not around. So, I say, let him in there, or let me see your supervisor." Tom's voice rose to a loud thunder, the doctor and Dean shrinking back at the sound. _You go dude_. Dean's lips curled up in a sloppy lopsided grin as he watched the doctor seeming to grow smaller and smaller.

"O…Okay, follow me. J...Just y...you, your big friend here will have to stay in the waiting room." He stammered out. Dean eyed Tom, who just smirked and winked. _Pretty brave for a little guy_.

"I'll come back and tell you how he is." Dean offered, Tom giving Dean's hand a slight grip and then releasing it. Dean took comfort in the small motion from the big man. _He is such a good friend. So much like Dad_.

"We'll be right here. Bobby should be here in the next hour. Don't worry about us; just get in there to Sammy."

Dean smiled one last time as emergency room doors closed and he left Tom sitting in the waiting room. He took hurried steps to keep up with the doctor; he obviously was in a big hurry. _Sure he has lots of patients to take care of_. The doctor stopped in front of room 307 and nodded his head toward the door.

"You're brother is in there. Keep him calm, quiet. Don't make me sedate him." _Is that a threat?_ "He needs to do the breathing treatments. I will have the nurse show you how to do them. He will sleep a lot, let him! If I hear he is being disturbed, you are out of here." _Screw you dude_. The doctor nudged Dean toward the door, and walked away_. Jerk. _Dean stared daggers at the doctor as he walked away._ I am so not out of here dude, he's my freaking brother!_ He pushed open the door; face calming the moment he saw his brother.

Sam was lying in the bed, face still flushed, eyes still hazy, fingers gripping the sheets under his hands into tight knots. He looked totally exhausted, scared, and small in the bed. Dean's eyes fell to the restraints that tied his brother's arms down, and they grew wide with anger. _What the hell? That doctor did not tell me they were tying him down. That son of bitch_. Dean stepped hurriedly to his side of the bed and reached a hand over to undo the restraints holding his brother to the bed. Sam rusted slightly under the covers, head rolling on the pillow, unfocused eyes seeing Dean. His chest was making a slight wheezing noise as he hitched in a breath of air.

"Sam."

"Dean?" He questioned in a small childlike whisper, not sure he was seeing his brother.

"Yea, Sammy, it's me. I'm here. It's okay."

"M...move m…my arms, br'ken?" Sam voice slurred, his eyes curiously looking at Dean. Sam's eyes watered over as if he were about to cry. "Dean?" Dean could see his fevered mind struggling to comprehend what was going on. "I feel bbbad."

"Shhh….shhh. You're arms aren't broken. I gotcha. It will be okay, I gotcha." Dean whispered in a low tone to his brother. He released one wrist and then the other, cringing at the heat still rolling off his little brother.

He slipped up on the bed to sit next to Sam; and then in an unconscious and very un- Dean like moment, he pulled Sammy up against his chest, rocking him in a slow even motion. Dean rocked him like when he was a child, when he was scared of the dark from his nightmares. Dean's fingers pulled Sammy's head to his chest, ruffling slowly through his fever drenched locks.

"Shh, I gotcha, Shh." Dean murmured, his chin resting on the top of Sam's head, his arms wrapped tightly around his brothers shaky body. "Shhhhh."

oooooooooooooooo

Sam was not sure where he was, he just knew he could not move his arms. His head hurt, his throat hurt, and he could not catch his breath. He felt scared and all he really wanted was his brother. He did not understand; where was Dean? Did he break his arms? He was hot? Where was Dean? It's so hot. Dean, Dean, Dean. His mind saying his brother's name in a little mantra only he could hear.

He heard a voice, Dean's voice. "Sam." Was he dreaming? He struggled to turn his head toward the sound. He could vaguely make out his brother from beneath the fog he was under. He felt his arms fall free and he relaxed a little. He felt strong hands pulling at him and he fell into their warmth; a comforting embrace. The low shushing noise reminded him of his childhood. He knew this, he remembered this…_Was he rocking_?


	11. Chapter 11

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 11**

**Amazing**

It was a long night for Dean Winchester, sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to Sam's bed; nurses and doctors coming in every hour to check on his brother. He had left the room only once, to allow Bobby, and then Tom, to come and see Sam. During his brief respite, he had grabbed a quick cup of the black coffee from the machine in the waiting room. The thick liquid barely helped him to keep his eyes open.

Dean raised his heavy head to look at his brother, it was a little after 4:00 a.m. and Sam was murmuring, his brow furrowed, his lips mouthing the word "Dean". Dean reached out, hesitating before he gently settled his hand on his brothers. Sam's lashed fluttered, blinking open lids to half mast, glassy eyes looking at Dean.

"Hey kiddo." Dean whispered as he tugged the chair in closer to Sam's bed.

Sam's hand rose shakily to his face, fingers tugging at the nasal canal blowing pure oxygen into his weak lungs.

"No Sam." Dean reached his hand up and gently grasped Sam's fingers pulling his hand back down to the sheets. "Leave it. It's helping you."

"…why?" Sam whimpered as he kept his eyes fixed on his older brother. _He was so tired. He ached all over. Why was he so tired? _

"You're sick Sam, you have pneumonia. You know if you weren't sick, I would beat the crap out of you." Dean's voice brimmed up two notches with every word, but, quickly lulled back to concern as Sam's eyes took on a confused look.

"It's okay Sam." Dean's eyes pierced through the bewilderment of Sam's mind and soothed him with their calming gaze. _Shhhh, it's okay Sammy_.

"Dog…?" Sam's voice was so low Dean could barely make out the question. _It is just like Sam to think about the stupid hunt._

"Sammy, just rest, its okay. Just rest." Dean gave his brothers hand a slight squeeze and watched as his eyes slowly closed shut; listening as his breath wheezed in and out of his rattling chest.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tom Baldwin rubbed his hand across his gritty eyes, looking across to Bobby Singer who was dozing in the opposite chair. They had been sitting in this crappy waiting room all night, keeping vigil, hoping to hear good news about Sam. _Sammy looked pretty rough when they brought him in here. _He watched as Bobby's head began to roll from its perch atop his fist, and grinned, as it flopped to his chest causing the man to jump slightly, his eyes flying open and darting around the room.

"You awake over there old man?" Tom smiled at Bobby, his own bloodshot eyes burning in their sockets.

"Yea, I'm awake. Can't sleep worth a shit in these damn chairs." Bobby snorted as he pushed himself to a straight up position on the lumpy green seat. "Sammy okay?"

"Yea, I asked awhile back. No change." Tom leaned his large frame across facing Bobby. "Okay, we need to talk about this hunt. If we don't figure out who is summoning the dog, and get rid of them. Well, more people are going to die."

"Gonna need more coffee to do that." Bobby sneered as he stood, his knees creaking with the motion, he headed toward the coffee machine, Tom rising and shuffling along behind.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean's legs were stiff as he pushed himself up and out of the plastic hospital chair; stretching his arms up over his head, bones cracking with the motion. He glanced over at Sam with his red rimmed eyes, stunned at how pale Sam looked against the sheets. Sam had been admitted 24 hours ago, so out of it, that it scared Dean to his very core. His little brother was sick, sicker than he had seen him in a long time. He was angry with himself for letting Sam hide this from him so well. _How did his brother get double pneumonia? Some big brother I am. The doctor told me he was more susceptible to lung problems. What the hell was I thinking? I should have put my foot down, made him take better care of himself. _

"Hum. Hum" Dean quickly turned to see the short doctor from the day before standing at Sam's bedside. Y_ou cocky little prick, tying my baby brother to the bed_. The arrogant doctor's eyes gazed at Sam's monitors, and quickly scribbled on his chart. "Well, well, well, I see your brother is doing better this morning. His fever is coming down. See what a little peace and quiet can do." He glared across Sam's bed to Dean's face. Dean's eyes scrunched up in an angry fashion, causing the doctor's stomach to clinch up in an uneasy knot. He shuffled on his shoes, squeaky voice cutting through the beeping monitors. "If he keeps improving, he can go home in a few days." He nodded his head at Dean, who did not say a word, his anger brimming just beneath the surface. The doctor took two tentative steps backwards toward the door. "Since his fever is down, your large friend can come in now. Just keep it quite, let him rest." Dean took a step toward the doctor, his left eye twitching unconsciously, hands shaking slightly. The doctor took another step back, watching the young man in front of him. He turned, his patent leather shoes clicking on the green tile; making a rushed exit from the room. Dean pulled his shaky hand through his short hair, eyes glaring at the doctor's hastily retreating back. _This guy is a real piece of work_. He pulled in an uneven breathe as he tried to squash the anger that was coursing through his veins. He sat numbly back down to the chair with a thud, eyes gleaming down at his trembling hands. _I am so gonna beat the shit out of that guy. _He slowly exhaled a low steadying breathe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean glanced up from his seat next to the window as Tom and Bobby entered the room; Dean had asked the last nurse to retrieve them from the waiting room. He eyed them both as they barreled through the doorway, finger quickly coming to his mouth and shushing them, both men slowed to a soft dawdling motion. Bobby bent down toward Sam, eyes gazing at the youngest Winchester; he unconsciously brushed his hand through Sam's too long bangs.

"He seems to be breathing better." Tom offered as he looked over to Dean.

"Yeah, he is. Doc said his fever is coming down." Dean looked from Tom to Bobby with a slight smile.

"Is that doctor an ass or what?" Tom whispered, grinning at Dean.

"He's going to be a doctor with a head ache when I get through with him." Dean's lips curled up in a slight grin as he nodded his head at Tom.

Sam shuffled in the bed as he blinked open his bleary eyes, fog slowly fading away as Bobby Singer's face came into focus. "B…B...obby?" Sam's chest heaved.

Bobby smirked at Sam's recognition. "Yea, it's me in the flesh."

"Dean?" Sam sounded confused, anxious, as he blinked and lifted his head wearily to glance around the room. He suddenly seemed to be struggling for oxygen, panic rising in his tone. "Dean?" _Where am I? How'd I get here? Where's Dean?_

"Right here Sammy." Dean stood and stepped around Bobby, so Sam could see him, fingers grasping for Sam's hand. Sam's long fingers gripped Deans wrist and wrapped around it slowly; his body relaxing into his brothers touch, his head falling limply back into the pillow_. Its okay, Dean's here._ He let the comforting feeling linger over him, easing the tugging in his chest. _Doesn't matter where I am_; _Dean's here, I'm okay_. Sam's eyes blinked slowly.

"Rest Sammy, everything is fine. Shhhh…." Deans muffled words made their way through Sam's hazy mind; his lips curled up in a smile. He felt a slow comforting feeling on his wrist, and sleep beckoned him. He let his eyes slowly fall closed as he succumbed to the darkness.

"That's it kiddo, just rest." Dean whispered as he gripped Sam's wrist with his own fingers, thumb making a small circling motion on his brother's skin.

Tom and Bobby shared a look, eyes gazing from Sam to Dean and then back to each other. They both nodded their heads. No words passing between them. Both men knowing they were thinking the same thoughts. _Amazing. It was amazing how easily Dean calmed Sammy. How each took so much comfort in the other. Just a word, a touch; and all fear and anxiety faded away. Amazing. _


	12. Chapter 12

Catch Me When I Fall

By supernaturaldh

Chapter 12

**Gonna be Alright?**

Tom gazed around the dull, pastel green hospital room, eyes fixing on a sleeping Dean Winchester; head slouched to his chest, arms hanging limply in his lap. _Boy, he looks uncomfortable_. His eyes veered across to Bobby Singer, who sat awkwardly in the too small plastic chair idly flipping television channels with the remote, lips curled up in a half hearted glare.

"There ain't freaking anything on daytime T.V." Bobby mumbled his finger twitching over the remote button, his eyes vacantly staring at the television. _Damn snuggle bear; I'm helping Dean take that little mother down._

It had been 48 hours since Tom had lent a hand helping Dean bring his brother to the hospital. Sam's fever so high he barely knew what was going on. He was glad to see that Sam seemed to be breathing easier now, resting comfortably in a much needed medicated sleep. He laughed silently; he hoped the doctor would make an appearance soon. Bobby and he were both very concerned for the youngest Winchester, and they would remain at the hospital till they heard he was on the road to recovery. He snickered to himself; he knew they were here for Dean too; although the oldest Winchester would be pissed off at that knowledge. So, they were sticking to their story: We want to make sure Sam is okay.

He dug the back of his hands into his eye sockets. _Boy, he was bone tired. Holy crap, Bobby, please quit flicking that damn remote. _He did not know how much longer the three of them could stay cooped up in this hospital room; it was an ugly argument just waiting to happen. They all had frayed nerves, and were quickly reaching the breaking point; exhaustion sitting in. _Was this room getting smaller?_ He shifted in the chair. He let his mind wonder, reviewing the details of the hunt that had gotten Sam and Dean in this mess to start with; dead bodies, black dogs, summoning spells. Was there a relinquishing spell that would get rid of whoever kept summoning the hell hound? He knew Bobby had done some background research, attempting to reach the brothers before the bottom fell out of their entire hunt. Why was someone summoning it, what did they hope to gain? What was the deal? He wasn't sure, but he knew Bobby would come up with something. _He always did._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The doctor scuffed his feet into Sam's room, his shoes making a tapping noise as he crossed the floor. He came to a sudden stop as three sets of eyes settled on him. He grunted uncomfortably, perspiration rising on the back of his neck; intense faces glaring back at him. _Well, if it's not my three favorite guys here together_. He snorted to himself and shook his head.

"So how's my brother." Dean rose to stand, his hands clasped tightly to keep them from pounding the cocky doctor in front of him. Tom and Bobby gazed at each other, and then back to the doctor.

"Patient Doctor Confidentiality, sorry." He snickered out. Dean's eyebrows arched up in an angry glare. _Don't hit him. Don't hit him. Don't hit him._

The doctor leaned in to Sam and touched him lightly on the shoulder, Sam's eyes blinking open with a confused glaze as he looked at the doctor's face in front of him. "Wha?" Sam mumbled.

"Hello there, Samuel. Remember me, your doctor. Remember the one that took care of you?" The doctor's hand carelessly patted Sam on the shoulder.

Sam blinked slowly as he peered up at the man, his eyes gradually attempting to register who was in his face. He rubbed his heavy lids with his forefinger and thumb, eyes groggily taking in the room. He cleared his cotton dry throat, one word coming from his lips.

"Dean."

Dean lips curled up into a lopsided grin as he nudged the arrogant doctor out of the way and grabbed his brother's hand. Tom and Bobby both nodded, snickers coming from their lips. The doctor rolled his eyes, taping his pen restlessly on the chart grasped in his fingers. He leaned in closer, talking directly to Sam as he hurried through his information, anxious to exit the room.

"You're fever is hovering around 100, so you are good to go home with the medication we are giving you. Once you finish this round of IV fluids, we will release you. Hope you have somewhere to go. Need to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. Finish the round of meds, take Tylenol as instructed. I will leave all the information with the discharge nurse." The doctor backed in the direction of the door with unwavering steps.

"What about his breathing treatments?" Dean queried the man, eyebrows arched up in an irritated glare as he watched the doc backing toward the door.

"Well, dah….of course, he needs to continue those." He rolled his eyes at Dean.

Tom and Bobby both locked eyes with each other, four eyes squelching up in little slits. _Okay, had enough of this guy_. The both stood from their chairs, fingers clinching into four firm fists.

Dean felt his hand shaking as Sam gripped his fingers tighter. "No Dean." Sam whispered hoarsely.

Mum….I would say it's been a pleasure, but I would be lying." The doctor turned on his fancy shoes virtually running out of the room.

"Prick" Sam mumbled as he heaved in a puff of air. He giggled through his congested head and chest; his eyes glimmering at the others. His lips curled up in a little smirk as he continued to snicker. Sam's giggling was infectious, Tom and Bobby both burst out laughing, amused at the entire turn of events. Dean's fingers slowly loosened their tight grasp on Sam's fingers; his rage slowly ebbing away as he gazed at his brothers amused eyes. He began to chuckle, his brother's silly laugh penetrating his fuming exhausted haze. Dean's chuckle became a laugh, his laugh slowly turned to uncontrollable tears that blurred his vision. He lightly brushed them away with the back of his hand, his chest contracting tightly as he did so. _Sam's was going to be okay_.

Tom and Bobby turned concerned eyes at Dean, attempting to act as if this occurrence was no big deal; they quickly turned away, each knowing this was a moment the brother's needed to share.

"It's okay Dean". Sammy whispered as his giggles subsided and he gazed at his big brothers face. "I'm okay."

"I know." Dean sucked in a deep breath, hands scrubbing over his tired face. Bobby leaned over and nudged Dean with his elbow.

"Was that guy a piece of work or what?" He laughed as Dean's eyes met his and he began to chuckle again.

"I thought you were going to knock the shit out of him." Tom grinned.

All three men laughed heartily as Dean relaxed into the moment, eyes falling happily back to Sam; who was now drowsy, eyes closing, a small smile curling up on his lips.


	13. Chapter 13

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

_Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. I have been out of town for the last week, so my updates got behind. - supernaturaldh_

**Chapter 13**

**What Family is all About**

As soon as doctor 'smartass' had left the room, and the laughter had died down from his exit; Bobby and Tom turned to Dean and grinned.

"We need to go do more research, don't we Tom?" Bobby nudged Tom in the side with his elbow, eyes sparkling as he did so. Both men scurried toward the doorway, bumping into each other as they went.

"Yeah, sure you do; you old guys just want a beer and a nap." Dean quipped, grinning heartily at them both.

Tom and Bobby never acknowledged Dean's remarks; but, gave him explicit hand gestures as they departed. Dean laughed at them both as he pulled the blankets up to Sam's neck; his brother resting in a medicated sleep. He sat back down in the chair to wait as a large smile spread on his lips. _Bobby and Tom were good guys, good friends. _

ooooooooooooooooooo

It took four long hours before his I.V.'s were removed, prescriptions and release papers given out. Sam would never admit it, but, he was secretly glad his brother was there, to get the instructions the nurse was giving out; medications, breathing treatments, recuperation time and medical rechecks. He wanted to listen; he tried, but his heavy lids kept closing, sleep pulling him in and out of the conversation.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Sam sat on the side of the wrinkled white hospital sheets, fingers clutching the fabric as he swayed slightly. He watched as Dean slid his feet into his sneakers and tied them. Dean raised his eyes, glancing up at his brother and smiling. Sam just nodded. He really wanted to do the job himself, but he was weak and wobbly, his body still on the mend from double pneumonia. The effort of getting himself dressed and ready to go had already worn him out. He was still running a low grade fever, but the doctor and nurses assured Dean that he was well on the road to recovery. _ Hell, he had enough drugs in his system to float a boat_.

"Now, to wait for that wheelchair." Dean stood as he spoke, sighing, his eyes studying Sam, giving him the once over. His brother was pale, a pasty white, all color removed from his cheeks. He had lost weight, and the medication made him sluggish and tired. _That's okay, I'll take care of you Sammy_.

"I can walk." Sam stood on his shaky legs, right hand still balancing against the bed. Dean quickly stood, hand grabbing Sam's free arm at the elbow, grasping him tightly. _Damn, Sam was hard headed_.

"I don't think so, kiddo. Just wait, you been here this long; what's five more minutes. Besides, I think that hot nurse will be wheeling you outta here. Give a guy a break; I might just get her number." Dean lightly pushed Sam back down to the bed, grin decorating his face. Sam smiled through his bangs at his brother, knowing full well he was just saying anything to get Sam to ride in the wheelchair.

ooooooooooooooo

Sam leaned his head against the cool passenger window; the Impala speeding down the highway. He smiled to himself; Dean had tucked him neatly into the passenger seat, blanket covering his body like he was a three year old. _Boy, he was going to be babied to death for the next couple days. Dean, Bobby, and Tom; Dean was bad enough, but all three of them. Holy crap. _

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the 'Hairy Jack Inn', noticing the big white truck and the vintage Chevy Nova; he turned off the ignition and looked over to his gangly brother, curled beneath the old army blanket, eyes closed, breathe steady. He softly nudged Sam on the arm and watched as his eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly at him.

"We're here Sam. Wait, I'll help you." Dean opened the driver's door, grabbing the white bag full of Sam's medication.

"I'm okay Dean." Sam wretched open the passenger door and pushed himself out of the car. The wind whipped around his body, chilling him to the bone. The sudden change in altitude caused his vision to blur, white dots dancing in front of his face.

Dean hustled around to the other side of the car. Sam was standing outside the passenger door, bodily leaning against the car. _Dean knew this was not a motion that Sam would normally do. He was very independent, and waiting on older brother to help him; well, Sammy just did not do that._

"You okay?" Dean whispered as he gripped Sam's elbow with his fingers.

"Dizzy." Sam whispered, pushing off the car, swaying slightly. Dean quickly placed his arm around his brother's back, pulling him slightly closer.

"It's okay. I gotcha." Dean brought his other hand up and held Sam's arm, bag of medications dangling between them.

They locked eyes for a moment, Sam's face reflecting the gratitude he felt for his brother, then both glanced back toward the ground. No words were necessary as they made steady steps toward the motel room.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Dean pushed the motel door open as he held tightly to his brother, Sam leaning profoundly into him for support. Sam snickered as the sight of Bobby and Tom both sprawled out on one bed, snuggled into one another was definitely amusing. Dean snickered lightly.

"Hey you two, look whose home." Dean yelled; the heel of his shoe thumping up against the door and thudding it closed with a bang. Both Bobby and Tom sat bolt right up in the bed, hands grabbing beneath their pillows, knifes yanked out and poised on their fingers.

"Shit Dean, don't do that. We could have killed you both." Bobby yelped as he slung his feet off the bed.

"Oh come on, I know you both. Just like me, the knife is your weapon of choice. Hide it under your pillow." Dean rolled his eyes as he lowered Sam to the bed. Sam smiled at both the older hunters.

"Good to see you out and about, Sam." Tom smiled as he flung his socked feet to the nasty carpet.

"Good to be out of that hospital." Sam slowly laid down on the bed, body too tired to even remove his jacket.

"Com'on Sam, you need to take a shower before you nod off." Dean shuffled through Sam's duffle, grabbing out some pajama pants, boxers, and a tee shirt. He turned around to see Sammy sound asleep, curled in on himself like he did when he was little, bangs covering his eyes, fingers clutching the pillow.

"Leave him be if he's resting Dean." Bobby's tone was more an order than a comment. He smiled as he pulled the blankets up and over a sleeping Sam. "Let's talk about this hunt."

Dean dropped the clothes back to the duffle, and motioned for them all to step outside, so they would not wake up Sam. Tom and Bobby shuffled into their boots, and snatched their jackets, following Dean to the front sidewalk. Dean took one last look at his brother; leaving the door cracked, he pushed down to concret, back leaning up against the bricks of the old motel. Tom slid down the cool wall to sit next to Dean, Bobby standing in front of them, hands stuffed deeply into his coat pockets.

"Dean, I hate to tell you this, but another person has died this week, the black dog making an appearance. We can't keep putting this off." Bobby grimaced as Dean shook his head in agreement.

"Listen, don't tell Sam. He'll just blame himself." Dean leaned his head back on the bricks, eyes gazing up at Bobby.

"I know." Bobby offered as he shifted on the balls of his feet.

"Guess you two are going to have to finish this one up. I'll stay here with Sammy." Dean hung his head, knowing full well how his brother would react to the notion that someone else died while they were all camped out in the hospital, keeping vigil over a sick Sam.

"We'll go out to the river tomorrow, summon it. We have the special iron rounds for the dog, and the Gaelic Verse to draw in its master, then send it back to hell." Tom spoke up, eyes glancing from Dean to Bobby.

"You sure you got the right summoning spell?" Dean raised his head to Bobby, eyes squinting up into the sun.

"Well, we got one, not sure, but I think; like 98 sure, it's the right one." Bobby chuckled. Tom shook his head and laughed as he pulled to his feet, hand lingering down in front of Dean's face. Dean grabbed Tom's hand and let him pull him to his feet.

"I'm going over to the office and pay for another week on this room." Tom spun on his feet and started walking toward the manager's office.

"Wait, you'll need money." Dean's voice echoed after Tom; his hands pulling cash out of his jean pocket.

"Nope, I won't." Tom continued his trek toward the office, back to Dean and Bobby, grin turning up on his lips.

"But, Tom…" Dean voiced.

"Leave it Dean…just let him do it. He want's too. He's got more money than you and I will ever see." Bobby patted Dean on the back and pushed him toward the motel door. "Let's have a beer."

They both made silent foot falls into the motel room, eyes veering over to Sam; who was still fast asleep on the bed, oblivious to the sounds around him. Bobby yanked two beers from the twelve-pack and handed one silently to Dean, who grinned wordlessly up to him. They each grabbed a chair from the small table and positioned them in front of the old T.V.; beer bottles clanking together as Dean clicked through the low volume channels, smile curling up on his face. _Now this, this was what family was all about. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

_Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. I have been out of town for the last week, so my updates got behind. - supernaturaldh_

**Chapter 14**

**Living on the Edge**

The dim shades of dawn glimmered lightly in through the sheer motel curtains; illumination cast unevenly across the king size double beds. Dean awoke slowly, the numbness in his shoulder creeping down to tingle in his fingers. He blinked sleepily, eyes adjusting gradually to the grey light filtering in the room. _Why is my arm asleep_? He leaned his chin down, his half opened eyes peering at the face of his little brother. Sam's head was firmly planted on his shoulder, body curled into him, fingers clutching at the sheets, just like when he was little. A crooked grin rose on Dean's lips. _Okay, how do I get out of this without waking him up and embarrassing us both? _He lay there silently pondering the situation. He listened to Sammy's breathe as it made a slight rattle with every rise and fall. He reached his free hand up and gently pushed Sam's long bangs out of his face, fingers brushing lightly across his brother's forehead. _No fever, that's good._ He gradually pulled his arm from beneath Sam's head, laying him gently to the pillow. Sam's fingers unclenched the sheets, his body letting go a slight shudder with the separation from his brother. Dean held his own breathe, eyes watching, waiting, but Sam's did not wake.

Dean pulled the blankets up and tucked them neatly under Sam's chin. He rose quietly, eyes glancing back down to his brother and then over to the opposite bed. His throat stifling a slight giggle as he viewed the massive forms of Bobby and Tom asleep; flopped haphazardly, clothes still on. He brought his hand up to his lips, forcing the laughter to a halt as he noticed the hole in Bobby's dirty white sock, his toes peeping out into the cool morning air. He shook his head and stood to his feet, hands grabbing clothes from his duffle; he made silent steps to the bathroom. _Ah… the joys of the first shower…Hot Water_!

Tom Baldwin woke to the water running in the bathroom; he rolled over, his large body bumping into something solid, his eyes popping open. Bobby Singer felt something bump up against him as he woke with a sudden start, eyelids flipping open with a jerk. _Shit_. Both men rolled away from the other and four seats of feet slammed heavily into the dirty motel carpet. Bobby's shaky fingers pulled through his hair as he heard the chuckle coming from behind him. Tom Baldwin's hearty laughter filling the empty room; he relaxed and let a slight snicker rise from his own lips.

"I'm going for some coffee, since Dean is hogging the shower." Tom quipped, large feet shuffling into his boots.

"Shhhh", Bobby stood, pointing his finger to the bed and a still sleeping Sam. "I'll go with." He pulled on his own boots and stood up, following Tom toward the doorway. They heard the shower turn off, and they both stopped, waiting for Dean to appear. The bathroom door swung open momentarily and Dean appeared in a large mist of hot air.

"Dean…have a nice HOT shower?" Bobby snarled in a low voice.

"Oh yes, very pleasant." Dean whispered with a grin.

"We're going for coffee; we'll bring back some breakfast." Tom stated as he swung open the door.

Dean gave both men a nod of his head as he stepped to his duffle and rummaged through, pulling out jeans and socks. The motel door closed quietly as he sat down on the messy mass of blankets, eyes glancing over at Sam, to see if he was still asleep. He grinned warmly as he saw his brothers staring back at him, eyes watching as he pulled up his blue jeans.

"Hey kiddo, I thought you were still asleep."

"Hardly, you should have heard Tom and Bobby when they thudded out of the bed. I think they scared the crap out of each other." Sam let out a light laugh as he shuffled down lower into the blankets.

"They had too many beers last night." Dean smiled over at his brother as he put his socks on.

"So what are we doing today?" Sam asked as he snuggled into the pillow.

"We're not doing anything. You're resting, I'm watching T.V." Dean's tone was authoritative, face glaring directly at his brother.

"What about the hunt for the black dog?" Sam asked as he looked wide eyed at his brother.

"What about it? Don't tell me you think you can hunt. Hell Sam, you just got of the hospital yesterday." Dean rolled his eyes at Sam. He stood, pulling the blankets up on the king size bed that Bobby and Tom had vacated. "I think Bobby and Tom can handle it just fine."

"I'm okay Dean, I feel okay." Sam stated flatly.

"Oh yeah, you're fine. All better….you're still wheezing there dude. You got three prescriptions' to finish."

"But Dean…"

"No But Dean's. No hunting, hell, you'll be lucky if you get to go to the bathroom by yourself." Dean chuckled as he grabbed the remote off the night stand, flipping lightly through the channels.

"I think we could help…you know prevent anymore deaths." Sam looked at Dean with his puppy dog eyes.

"Forget it." Dean braced himself, eyes not looking at his brother_. No need to look, I know what he's doing_. "I am so not even looking at you." Dean grimaced to himself, eyes fixed on the Morning News. _Need to stop this damn black dog. No need for Sam to know there had been another death while he was in the hospital_.

At that moment, the morning news blared out exactly what Dean did not want his brother to know. 'There was another death last night near Hanging Hills; a young man was murdered down near the river. We go to Steve Webb for more details'. Dean quickly punched the remote to change the channel.

"Dean…wait..Did they just say there was another death in Hanging Hills?"

Dean sighed loudly, eyes turning over to his brother. "Yes, Sam. That is what they said."

"Shit Dean, we have to stop this thing." Sam pushed on shaky arms up from the bed, eyes growing wide.

"Sam, there have been two deaths since you've been sick, making a total of 5 in the last 8 weeks." Dean watched as his brother seemed to grow smaller under the blankets, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"What?" Sam whispered as he slumped back to the bed.

"Sorry Sammy, I should have told you, but you were sick. I just…we couldn't do anything. We were all at the hospital."

"But Bobby and Tom could've…" Sam's voice trailed off as he grew suddenly very tired, weary body feeling like it weighed a ton.

"No Sam, we were all at he hospital. Sam you were really sick man…really sick. We couldn't leave you." Dean flicked off the T.V. as he came to sit on the side of Sam's bed; hand resting on the top of the mound of blankets covering his brother. "Sam, we don't know that we could have stopped any of it. Do you hear me? Sam…"

Sam nodded slowly, quivering hands pulling up the blankets around him.

"Sammy….look at me." Dean nudged Sam's blanketed shoulder. Sam's sad eyes blinked up at him. "We can't save everyone … we want to, we all do, but we can't, Sam. Okay…do you hear me?"

"I hear you Dean. I'm tired, can I go back to sleep now?" Sam whispered.

"Sam, don't blame yourself, please tell me you aren't doing that?" Dean grabbed the three prescription bottles off the nightstand and opened them one at a time, pulling out Sam's medication as he went.

"Here Sam, take your pills." He pushed the medication into Sam's fingers and handed him a bottle of water off the table. Sam looked at him sadly as he stuffed the pills in his mouth, swallowing them in one large gulp. He pushed the bottle back at Dean and nuzzled slowly down into the covers.

Dean shook his head, as he watched his baby brother disappear into the cloud of blankets, brown hair the only visible sign that Sam was even there. _Damn it_. Dean stood and made his way back to the other bed, concern for his little brother causing his chest to tighten, he plopped dejectedly back down on the mattress.

SNSNSNSNSN

The icy snow crunched under Tom Baldwin's large size 13 boots as he shimmed down the embankment to the waters edge. He glanced over his shoulder at Bobby Singer; he was just behind him desperately trying to stay standing on the crisp snow bank.

"You got the Gaelic ritual, you know; the one that's 98 percent effective?" Tom mouthed over his shoulder at Bobby, grin curling up on his lips.

"No smartass, I just came all the way out here for fun." Bobby rolled his eyes, coming to a stop next to Tom. He shifted to the soles of his shoes; quickly opening his duffle bag, fingers pulling out the old worn journal, he flipped to the page that was raggedly turned down before leaving the motel.

"Keep your eyes peeled, Tom; when I summon it, the black dog will come here; you have to shoot it with the Iron Dust Bullet. It holds the damn demon dog where it is for five minutes. Five minutes is all we get to finish the ritual after you shoot it, sending the dog and its master back to hell."

"Will it draw its master here?" Tom looked curiously at Bobby; as he loaded the single bullet into his gun.

"No, I told you; where ever the one who is summoning it is, they will know something is up, but they won't be able to get here, before the ritual is finished, sending them both back to hell."

Tom's fingers twitched on the trigger of his gun. "One freaking bullet, damn Bobby; aren't we cutting this kind of close?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, his eyes twinkling at Tom. "Dean calls this living on the edge dude, living on the edge."


	15. Chapter 15

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

_Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story. It's what keeps me going! You guys are great!! - supernaturaldh_

**Chapter 15**

**I only want a Mountain Dew**

Dean Winchester glanced down at his watch, 4:30 p.m., it would be dark soon. He pushed back against the headboard of the rickety motel bed as his eyes landed on his little brother; sleeping soundly on the opposite bed. Sam had been resting all day, waking only for food and medication. Bobby and Tom had left for the black dog hunt about and hour ago. He shuffled on the bed and crossed his legs, heavy boots slamming to the covers. He flicked his fingers on the remote; turning the sound down; he leaned his head in slightly toward Sammy. _He sounds better, a lot less wheezing going on._ His eyes fell back to the rerun of the "Dukes of Hazzard" on the old T.V., grin curling up on his face as he watched Daisy Duke in her short shorts. _My, my, my, what a hottie_. He smiled smugly. _No sound necessary, the view was fine, just fine..._

SNSNSNSNSNS

Bobby looked around the dense trees of Jack Forks River, the cool air causing a slight shudder to twist its way through his bones. He nodded at Tom, eyes fixing below him on the journal held tightly in his fingers; words of the summoning ritual rising up to meet his gaze.

Tom leaned against the bark of the old oak tree, gun suspended lightly in his fingers, left eye twitching over the gun sight. His breathe came out in small steaming clouds, hovering lightly around his face. "Do it." He whispered.

Bobby's voice rang loudly as he began the old Gaelic summoning ritual. "We invoke from the darkness….." His words rolled slowly off his lips, hanging heavily in the crisp, Missouri air.

SNSNSNSNSN

Sam blinked open his sleep filled lids, eyes darting around the motel room and landing on Dean, sprawled out on the other bed, back against the headboard, remote lying limply in his hand.

"Hey, sleepy head." Dean's head turned and gave his brother a crooked grin, fingers flicking off the T.V. "Glad you're awake. Listen, I need a Mountain Dew and M & M's bad; I'm going over to the office to the vending machines, you need something?" He sat up quickly, boots thudding lightly on the carpet.

Sam pushed himself up on the mattress, mass of blankets moving with him. "No, no, I think I'm good." His lips curling up into a sleepy smile as his fingers fluffed at the pillow under his head.

"Okay then. I'll be right back." Dean pulled on his jacket; wrenching the motel door open, he gave his brother a nod of his head.

Sam snuggled against the lumpy mattress, eyes glaring at the T.V., then back at the remote on the other bed. _Nope, don't feel like getting up to reach it_. _I'll just wait for Dean to come back. _He slowly closed his lids, mind lulling just beneath awake and just above asleep.

Dean strolled slowly across the parking lot of the Hairy Jack Inn, eyes squinting to adjust to the now graying sky. It was getting late. _Wonder how the black dog hunt is going? _He fingered the cell phone in his pocket but then decided he had better not bother Tom and Bobby just yet. _Give them time to finish the hunt, call him. _He gripped the lobby door, pulling it open as his eyes fell on the wretched old woman sitting behind the counter. _Boy, this lady was an old hag, and when he said old, he meant really old. _He smirked to himself, and made his way over to the vending machines; fingers grasping in his pockets for quarters.

"Where are all your friends?" The old woman leaned across the front counter, fingers tapping idly on the countertop, old eyes glaring at Dean in little slits.

"Huh?" Dean turned lightly, fingers still poised over the coke machine, quarter slipping into the slot. "Oh, they are over at Jack's Fork River, you know fishing, or something." He gave the woman a slight smile as he continued to pour quarters into the machine.

"Best be careful out there, black dogs roaming." She whispered as a grin curled up on her wrinkled face. "Wouldn't want anything to happen…you know…to them." She let out a little cackle that made the hair stand up on the back of Dean's neck. He darted his eyes back around to rest on her face. _What_? Dean reached down without looking and grabbed the Mountain Dew from the vending machine. _He really wanted some M & M's, but this old crony was giving him the creeps._ He grinned sheepishly and stepped toward the door. _Old hag, forget the M & M's_. Dean glanced back at the old woman, who had now made her way around the counter and was leering at him. He pulled on the door. _She was making him very uncomfortable. Something was off here. His mind rushed, get back to Sam, make sure he's okay._

Dean hustled across the parking lot, eyes fixed on the motel door. _Shake it off Winchester, holy crap. She's just an old lady._ He turned open the motel room door with a quick grasp, eyes resting on the mass of blankets on the bed, Sam's brown hair sticking up around the covers. Dean sighed as he moved to push the door closed. Then he heard it, a high pitched screaming sound the pierced through the evening air. He turned quickly, just in time to see the old hag from the lobby floating across the parking lot, red eyes staring intently at him. _Holy Shit, the damn old hag was the one doing the summoning. Right here, the whole freaking time. _He shoved the door shut. _Lot of good that's gonna do_. He reached down and grabbed the salt gun as he lunged for Sam on the bed. Hand grabbing the mass of blankets and tumbling it to the floor with one big swoop.

"What…?" Sam thudded to the floor, all legs, arms, and blankets; Dean's body curled directly on top of him. "De…e…an? Sam's voice came out in a sleepy mumble as he gazed from beneath the covers at Dean's wild face. Then he heard it, the low whining sound as the door of the motel room flung open with a bang. His foggy mind tried to comprehend what was going on, a mass of confusion as Dean pushed him hard to the floor, hands flinging the gun up and over the mattress beside them. The gunshot pierced into the musty room; Sam lay perfectly still. _What the hell was that_? He heard Dean let out a little grunt as he pulled off of him to lean back against the bed frame. Sam lay perfectly still, stunned into submission by his brother's actions. His mind raced. _What'd I miss, what's going on?_ Sam lay perfectly still.

"You okay." He felt Dean's fingers grab tightly on his shoulder and hall him to rest his back against the bed. He blinked slowly as he looked wide eyed at his older brother. "I…I...Th...think so." Sam stuttered as he attempted to pull himself up on the bed.

"NO" Dean ordered. "I don't know if Bobby's done; or even if the damn ritual worked."

Sam slumped back to the floor, back leaning up against the bed; fear creeping up his spine. He shuddered slightly pulling the covers up tighter as he blinked at his older brother. _Was he dreaming?_ _What the hell was Dean even talking about? _

SNSNSNSNSN

They heard the black dog before their eyes actually saw it; Bobby's head tilted gradually around, the damn dog right behind him. _Crap_. He stood stock still, not sure what or if Tom was doing anything.

Tom Baldwin rotated slowly on the balls of his size 13 boots; finger poised gently on the trigger of his gun. _He was a good shot, but he had to have the damn dog in his sights first. _He heard the low growling sound as his eyes pierced through the graying light behind Bobby. "DOWN." He commanded in his stern military tone.

Bobby recognized a direct order when he heard one. _He hadn't hunted with John Winchester for twenty years to not know a command when it occurred_. He let his legs drop from beneath him, his heart pounding in his chest. He heard the black dog's front paws pounce against the ground. It sprang through the air directly toward him. _Shit, guess this is it_. He jumped unconsciously as the gunshot rang out through the night air; hell hound falling with a dull sound to the ground. He heaved out a light breathe he did not realize he was holding; wrenching his neck around to stare at a grinning Tom Baldwin.

"Got em." Tom's voice echoed in the tree line. "READ… Bobby; read the damn ritual."

Bobby stumbled to his feet, eyes focusing back on the pages of the journal as he struggled to catch his breathe. "Summon the master, and send you back to the blackness of hell…" The book was shaking in his fingers; but, the words were flowing flawlessly from his lips.


	16. Chapter 16

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 16**

**Slight Run In**

He stole a glance at Dean; his bright eyes peering slightly from beneath the mound of blankets. His brother sat stoically, gun raised, glint focused, a grim look perched on his face. Sam heaved out a slight sigh as he clutched the blankets up tighter to his chest. _What's going on_? He felt shaky, confused, and suddenly totally dependent on his big brother.

"COM' on you son of a bitch." Dean's voice was low and taunt, his eyes squinting, as his finger lingered over the trigger of the salt gun. _Maybe Tom and Bobby completed the damn ritual. _He felt Sam shudder slightly next to him; his eyes darting a quick look at his little brother's face. _Sam looked a little disoriented, feverish, out of it; engrossed in a drug induced haze._

Dean reached his steady hand over, gently patting Sam on the side of his leg. "It's okay Sammy." He murmured, "Just sit tight." Large, trusting orbs blinked back at him, Sam's head nodding slightly.

SNSNSNSNSN

Three minutes seemed like forever to Tom Baldwin. His brows arched up in a questioning stare; glaring intently into the wooded area. His ears listened as Bobby read the Gaelic summoning ritual. He shuffled the gun in his fingers, eyes stabbing through the tree line. _If the dog made another appearance; he was ready_. He gazed at Bobby as the words rolled off of his tongue that would send the dog, and his master, back to hell.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean cocked his head slightly; he listened; the noise rising outside the room to a light roar, a screaming pitch that could not be ignored. He swung his right arm around and pushed his brother behind him, blankets and all, as the ghastly red eyed hag appeared again, hovering wickedly in the doorway. _Hurry up Bobby, Shit_. Dean leaned into the gun, finger flexing against the trigger; but the old hag was fast, whizzing quickly to the ceiling of the room as the gunshot echoed, salt blasting tiny holes in the beige motel wall. The next few seconds were a whirl of movements, the hag fizzing down from the ceiling, coming straight for them. Dean's fingers struggled to pull the gun up for another salt round, as he laid his body on top of Sammy, sheltering him from the wraith of the old woman. He pushed Sam beneath him, as the image whirled down on top of them. Evil red eyes, were the last thing he saw, as a heavy force rushed against him, pushing him; his ears roaring, falling heavily against his brother.

Sam saw the trepidation in his older brother's eyes as he patted him lightly on the leg. "It's okay Sammy." He murmured, "Just sit tight." Sam's mind was a flurry of confused thoughts, but even in his current state, his lack of knowledge of exactly what was happening; he implicitly trusted his brother. He simply stared at Dean, unquestioning eyes, knowing that Dean would take care of him. He heard the sounds of the high pitched scream and then Dean shoved him down to the floor, pressing heavily against him as the screaming rose to a roar. He felt his brother's body as an unseen force pushed against them both. His forehead slammed with a thud to the floor, his vision abruptly blurring around him, as he blinked slowly, his long lashes fluttering lightly against his cheeks. _His head hurt_. _Why was Dean lying on top of him?_

"Dean?" Sam murmured as he struggled to push himself up, fingers fumbling to find purchase through the blankets. Dean fell boneless and limp to the floor.

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Bobby gazed over at Tom then back to the black dog; it wavered, hissed, and then disappeared in a mass of black mist, floating up into the cold night sky.

"Well, guess that takes care of that." Tom offered, he let the gun drop from his shoulder, tense muscles relaxing, long breathe easing from his lips.

Bobby grinned, "Yep, think that did it. Still wondering though, who was summoning it? Guess we'll never know." He shrugged his shoulders, whatever stare glimmering from his eyes. He turned to make his way back through the darkness to Tom's truck and the room they were sharing with the Winchesters.

"You com' in?" he stated. Their eyes met briefly, heads nodding in sequence, both knowing it was another job well done.

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The headlights of the truck shone a large white light against the open motel room door and across the floor. The truck easing into the parking lot of the Hairy Jack Inn, taking the spot next to the Impala. Tom and Bobby eyebrows both snarled up in a questioning motion as the glanced at each other.

"Dean would not leave the door wide open in this weather with Sam recovering from pneumonia." Bobby flatly stated grabbing his gun from the seat and wrenching open the passenger door in the same quick motion.

"Got that right." Tom whispered as he too grappled to grab his gun, clutching it tightly in his fingers as he exited the driver's door.

The made steady steps to each side of the doorway; standing stock still, they listened, waited for any noise coming from the darkened motel room.

"Dean" Bobby called out, voice vibrating into the motel room.

They heard a slight mumbling, almost so low, it sounded like a whimper. Bobby tilted his head at a slight angle; eyes squinting over at Tom.

"Sam?" his tone was gentle as a large knot tightened in his chest. He hedged his way into the room, Tom tightly on his heals, eyes darting around, settling on Sam Winchester; an unconscious Dean clutched tightly in his hold. His arms clasped around his brother holding him securely to his chest, head resting against Sam's shoulder. The blankets were all jumbled around them on the floor. Sam was resting his chin on his brother's head, lips whispering "It's okay Dean, its okay." He murmured it lightly, over and over into Dean's ear. The older hunters' guns fell carelessly to their sides as Tom and Bobby made steady steps, kneeling down next to the brothers.

"Sam." Bobby queried, as he looked at Sammy's face. The young man's eyes were slightly glazed over, checks a little flushed, body shivering ever so slightly. Tom's large fingers reached out to Dean, wanting to check him for injuries, but Sam tugged him tighter, no recognition coming to his features.

"Sam?" Bobby said his name again, leaning closer into Sam's face. "Sam, its Bobby. Sam…we need to take care of you're brother. Okay? Let him go." He brought a light hand up and rested it on Sam's arm as the youngest Winchester seemed to recognize him and looked pleadingly into his face. "Bobby?"

"I think Sam's a little shocky here." Tom whispered lightly as he grabbed up the blankets, wrapping them securely around Sam's shuddering shoulders, fingers tucking them securely around his body. Bobby eyed Sam as his hands clutched the oldest Winchester from his brother, guiding him slowly to the floor. Sam's gaze never wavered from Bobby's face, taunt fingers relinquishing their hold slowly from his brother.

"Don't see any injuries." Bobby stated as his hand ran lightly over Dean's torso, back of his neck and head. Tom pulled another blanket up over Dean as he glanced back to Sammy, who still sat dazedly on the floor, eyes never wavering from his brother's face.

Tom reached his large hand down and latched it on Sam's arm, eyes falling to Sam's face, covered almost completely by his long bangs. He lightly pushed the hair away, and noticed the large knot that came into view. "Sam's got a lump on his forehead, he hit something pretty hard." Bobby's eyes eased up from Dean to look at Sammy's face.

"The floor." Sam sluggishly responded, face registering recognition. Tom gripped his arm a little tighter.

"Something sure as shit happened here." Tom's eyes glared at Bobby as they both nodded in agreement. A slight rustle on the floor gave them both a fleeting look back at Dean as his eyes flew open wide, glancing around the room.

Bobby's hand fell to his shoulder, giving it a firm tug; "Easy their Dean, just lie still." Dean's body relaxed as he blearily looked at Bobby and Tom; he immediately tensed back up when his eyes fell to his brother.

"Sam? Is he okay?" his voice edgy with concern as he pushed to right himself. Bobby forcing him back down to the floor with his firm hand. "Lie still." He ordered. Dean reluctantly slumped back to the floorboards, hand rising to his own forehead and resting there against his eyebrows.

"He's fine, got a bump on the head." Tom looked directly at Dean. He gripped Sam by the arms, "Com on Sam lets get you off the floor." Sam's nodded as he let Tom help him slowly to stand up, swaying slightly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Tom readjusted the blankets around Sam, who gave him a weak smile from his new position.

Dean heaved in a long breathe as he looked at Bobby. "I'm okay. I'm Okay. Can I sit up now, Oh master?" He gave Bobby a light grin as the older man smiled and eased his hand around Dean's back to help prop him up, his vision tunneling for a brief moment. Bobby's strong arm tightened on Dean's back as he eyed him carefully. "Slow, take it slow." He encouraged, Dean's facial features evening out, his vision clearing gradually.

"We had a slight run in with an old hag." Dean relaxed into Bobby's grasp, letting the older man provide him a brief respite from his tough exterior. Bobby grinned at the motion, but dare not say a word. Tom smiled a wide smile at them both as he tugged the blankets closer in around Sam.


	17. Chapter 17

**Catch Me When I Fall**

**By supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 17**

**Beds, Beers, and Bonding**

Sam lay across one of the ratty beds at the Hairy Jack Inn, eyes staring up at the ceiling. _Was he actually counting the water marks?_ He snarled up his nose; the room smelled of musty carpet, day old pizza, dirty laundry, and beer. _God, it stinks in here_. He gazed over to see Dean flipping through TV channels, sucking down a beer; Bobby snoring limply in the stiff hardback chair, head perched on his elbow, head moving slightly with each breath; and Tom's ugly feet exposed, sitting on the opposite bed, cutting his toe nails. _Holy, crap…we got to get out of here. _

They had been stuck here, in this small motel room, together, since they eliminated the demon dog and the ugly old hag that was summoning it. Although, Sam was ready to leave the next day, advising he could rest in the car, the others would not hear any of it. "We have free room, for as long as we like. Let's take advantage of it. Let you get better." Bobby had stated, actually it sounded more like an order to Sam. Dean and Tom had each gazed from the other, back to Bobby; all sets of eyes then fell on Sam. They all three shrugged their shoulders, and the deed was done. They had been stuck in this place every since, sharing beds, beers, and bonding until Sam was ready to scream.

But now, one week later, they were really wearing thin on his nerves. The real clincher, they all decided to stay in this room together. _What was that shit?_ There were other rooms available, a whole line of them. No manager, no money problems, just open, vacant rooms. Dean had acknowledged this fact, but said he wanted to be there for Sam. Sam understood that, his brother had always been there; slept in the same room, looked out for him. Bobby said Dean was knocked out by the hag, and needed someone looking out for him. Sam sort of understood that too; Dean certainly would not look out for himself. Sam was tired, recovering from pneumonia, so he relented, this once. That's when Tom said he was a medic in Iraq and he should stay in the room to watch out for them both. The argument went round and round, until Sam just flopped back down on the bed; told them all to "shut up" and covered his head with the pillow. At that point, he still felt pretty bad, and he did not care what they did, as long as they left him alone. Now though, it was different, he was feeling better and just the sound of the three were driving him nuts. Dean guzzling beer and burping in-between flipping channels. Bobby snorting in his sleep, drool running down his chin; and Tom's snip, snip, snip, dropping his raggedy toe nails all over the carpet.

"Enough", the word rolled off of Sam's lips before he even realized it. Three sets of eyes all turned to look at him. He jumped to his socked feet and stared back, shifting uncomfortably from the stunned gazes he was getting. "I said, that's enough."

"What's your deal?" Dean garbled as he turned up the last of his beer, hand dipping in the cooler.

"Enough of what?" Tom dropped his feet to the floor, unconsciously grinding the toenail clippings into the fuzzy worn carpet.

"Huh?" Bobby said as he blinked to wake up his gritty eyes, looking confused at Sam.

"Enough of this…" Sam stammered out, eyes glaring at the others.

"Better not do that?" Dean nodded at Tom.

"Do what?" Tom questioned as he looked at Dean.

"Put your virgin feet on this fungi invested floor." Dean grinned and looked down at Tom's feet.

"Yea, I wouldn't be so sure you won't catch a disease from this carpet." Bobby snarked, as he reached over to the wretch a beer from the cooler.

"Might be right about that." Tom pulled his dirty grey socks back on his size 13 feet. "Hand me a beer." He grinned.

Bobby opened the cooler, grabbed out a beer and passed it to Dean, who in turn handed it to Tom with a big smile dressing his face.

"Thanks." Tom grinned.

All eyes went back to the TV as Dean turned the volume up.

Sam just stood stock still, watching the three older men. _We're they even listening to me? _All three men laughed heartily at the rerun of "Family Guy".

"That Stewie kid reminds me of Sammy. You know stomping his feet; demanding our attention when he was little." Bobby laughed loudly.

"What, he still does that." Dean cackled as he clanked his beer up against Bobby's. Both men laughing heartily. Tom smirked and joined in the little beer bottle salute. Sam rolled his eyes in frustration, hand grabbing up his duffle and slinging it to the bed; fingers haphazardly stuffing in his clothes.

Tom looked at Sam from the corner of his eye; he nudged Bobby, who also glanced over at the boy. Bobby nudged Dean and he turned to see his little brother packing up his gear. He pressed the off button on the TV, standing, he stretched his legs, his empty beer bottle thudding in the trash can.

"Well boys, I win. Guess Sammy is feeling better." He nodded at Bobby and Tom. "Pay up."

"Yes sir, I'd say he is." Bobby offered as he guzzled down his beer, hand dropping a twenty into Dean's fingers.

"Bout time." Tom said as pulled on his boots. He shoveled a twenty out of his pants pocket and dropped it to Dean's grasping fingers.

Sam stopped his motions, pivoting around on the balls of his feet, eyes wide with disbelieve.

"Took you long enough." Dean grinned at his brother and grabbed his duffle bag out of the corner. Bobby dumped the ice from the cooler as Tom grabbed up his own bag from under the bed.

"What?" Sam looked confused as all three men stood in front of him, bags already packed and ready to go.

"Well, we were waiting on you to get well." Tom smiled as he stood, fingers gripping his duffle.

"Yea, we figured when you were well, we would start grating on your nerves." A small smile curled up on the edge of Bobby's lips.

"I told them you'd last a week. Said you'd throw a girly fit when you were ready to hit the road. I win." Dean's hand lightly slapped Sammy on the back of the head as he walked by, duffle bag swaying by his side. "I'll be at the car, Samantha."

The room emptied immediately, all remnants of Dean, Bobby, and Tom obliterated in a mere two minutes. Sam still stood, stunned at what had just occurred. A slow grin rose to his lips, rising to a giggle, and then a solid laugh. He finished stuffing his things in the duffle and zipped it closed. He grabbed up his jacket and made his way out the doorway. Three large smiles met his arrival at the Impala, Nova, and Dodge truck; a huge grin decorated Sam's face.

"You guys…" He threw his duffle in the trunk, shaking his head in a chuckle, as he turned to look at Tom and Bobby.

"You take care of yourself, Sammy. Watch that stupid brother of yours." Tom grinned as he reached out and pulled Sam into a hug.

"I will Tom. Thank you for coming, helping us." Sam smiled as he pulled away from Tom's grasp.

Dean stood at the driver door; Tom stepped promptly to him and pulled him into his large embrace. _Oh God, kill me know_. Dean stiffened, then let his inhibitions drop and gave Tom a quick hug in return.

"You take care." Dean whispered in a low voice, barely audible. Tom nodded and stepped to his truck, sliding into the front cab and revving up the engine.

"See you at your house Bobby. Bet I can beat you there." With that, Tom Baldwin grinned, pushed peddle to the metal and pulled his truck out of the parking lot, disappearing down the roadway and into the night.

"Bye Bobby." Sam reached over and pulled Bobby into a slight hug, Bobby grabbing him with both arms and giving him a large squeeze.

"You boys, keep in touch. I mean it. The holidays are coming; I expect to see you at my house. Got it?" Sam nodded his head in a minor yes motion as his eyes glistened slightly. He blinked back the moisture as he stepped away from Bobby and eased himself into the passenger seat.

Bobby quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve and strolled around the car to Dean, who was opening the driver's door. "Hey you, com'er." Bobby grabbed Dean by the arms and pulled him quickly to his chest. "Son, You watch out for your brother." He mumbled in Dean's ear.

Dean gave in; he hugged Bobby back and then settled into the driver's seat. Bobby smiled as he leaned into the driver window. "I mean to see you at the holidays. Tom will be there. I mean it Dean. You get your asses to my house. Got it?" He grinned.

Dean smiled back at Bobby sudden tightness grasping at his chest; he blinked his eyes to clear his vision; fingers gripping on the steering wheel. "We'll be there Bobby, I promise."

They sat in the Impala and watched as Bobby floored his old Nova and rolled out of the parking lot, tail lights fading into the darkness. Dean cocked his head to the side and smiled a croaked smile at his little brother.

"You ready." He grinned as he put the car in gear and pushed the gas paddle.

Sam nodded his head, lips curling up in a grin at his brother. He let his eyes gaze from Dean to the front windshield and out into the distance. A warm comfortable feeling crept across his chest as he relaxed into the bench seat, scooting down to rest his head on the leather. He had his brother to protect him, take care of him, and catch him if he fell. He was happy with that, but it made him smile to think that he had friends that were there too. Friends he and Dean considered family, their family. He felt better just knowing that Bobby and Tom would protect Dean, take care of him, and catch him if needed. It was nice to know they were not alone. He let his eyes flutter shut, a small smile resting on his lips, as the humming sound of the engine lulled him to sleep.

The End


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